


Little Gordon

by Courtney_Wilkes



Series: Little Gordon [1]
Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Attempted Murder, Drinking, Drinking to Cope, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Underage Drinking, Insanity, Italian Mafia, Murder, Past Child Abuse, Rape Recovery, Slow Burn, Underage Drinking
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-05
Updated: 2020-12-05
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:00:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 24,952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27890404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Courtney_Wilkes/pseuds/Courtney_Wilkes
Summary: Jessica Gordon is the adoptive daughter of Jim Gordon and Barbara Kean, but she has one secret that she refuses to tell anyone. But when she starts hallucinating and dreaming about a certain green eyed ginger boy, she'll soon find out that everything she thought wasn't real actually is. Will she be able to finally learn to let herself love someone? Will she reveal her darkest secret or keep it hidden forever? Will he help her embrace her true self? Well one thing's for certain, in Gotham secrets don't stay secrets for long.Read to find out more!!
Relationships: Jerome Valeska/Jessica Gordon, Jerome Valeska/Original Female Character(s), Jim Gordon & Barbara Kean, Jim Gordon/Barbara Kean, Jim Gordon/Leslie Thompkins
Series: Little Gordon [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2041314
Kudos: 3





	1. Prologue

Dear Diary,

October 30, 2002

I never wanted this, any of this. I just wanted what every kid my age wants—a normal happy life. But then again, life doesn’t work that way. I just wish that I could somehow go back and undo everything—including the day I was born. I never wanted this. Ever. At all.

I’m sorry for the vagueness of my statements up above. It’s just that recently I haven’t been doing too hot and I just needed to vent to someone. However everyone here in the orphanage is cruel and mean to me. They would never listen to me like you do. They would much rather get physically abusive in their bullying towards me. Just like my parents. Just like my selfish, low-down, abusive pieces of shit that I used to call my parents.

Anyway, I’m getting off track again. Sorry. One of the staff here is actually nice to me and helps out from time to time. She’s the one who recommend that I keep a diary and talk to you whenever something significant happens in my life. Well, there’s a nightmarish tale that I must relate to you.

Yesterday, I was sitting outside by an oak tree all alone. I was reading on one of my favorite books, “The Great Gatsby.” I heard footsteps approaching me, so I quickly shut and hid the book in my light blue satchel. When I looked up, there was a boy standing over me with an evil grin on his face. I was so scared because I didn’t know what that day’s form of “torture” I would be getting. Instead of the regular punches and kicks, he pounced on top of me like a lion on its prey. I tried to fight back, but he soon had me restrained. One of his hands held my arms above my head, while his other roamed my body. After he stopped that, he put a gag in my mouth and tied a piece of rope around my wrists. That’s when the most terrifying thing happened. That’s when he completely ravaged me.

I never told anyone, because I was scared that if I did he might actually kill me. I currently sport several bruises on my arms, legs, and throat. I also have burn marks on my wrists from where the rope was tied tightly on them. I want to get out of this hell-hole, but every time that I’ve tried to escape I always get caught. I hate this place, I hate myself, I hate my entire existence, and I just want it to be over with.

I’m sorry for the tear stains that now lie on your pages, but the only friend I have here (outside of you) said that it was good to cry. However, I try very hard not to. Y’know after the whole fiasco with my parents. Anyway, I’ve got some news that might be on a happier subject. The nice woman (I keep forgetting her name) said that the whole orphanage will get to go to the circus that’s coming into town.

Personally, I’ve never been to one before. So, I think that it will be a nice change of pace for a moment. I’m not for sure how long they’ll be staying, but I can’t wait to go. Also, I know that I’ve told you this before but I just hope that there aren’t any snakes or clowns that come near me. I don’t know why, but I’ve always had a fear of snakes and clowns. I also know, that you’re probably thinking that it’s stupid to have a fear of either or both of those things. But I can’t help it, it’s just who I am.

Oh! I almost forgot, Happy Early Halloween! Even though it’s tomorrow, I just wanted to wish you a very Happy Halloween! I’ve got to go now, but we’ll talk again soon I promise. This is me signing off. 

Until next time,  
Jessica

After I finished writing in my diary, I closed it and stuck it under my bed. I know it’s probably not the best hiding spot, but sometimes you’ve gotta do what you’ve gotta do. Once I was sure that it was hidden, I went into the bathroom and looked at my reflection in the mirror.

My usually bright, dirty-blonde hair is now dirty and slightly greasy. My usually fair skin is extremely pale and thin. My usually fit yet petite figure is extremely thin-looking. My usually bright blue eyes that held mystery, now look dull and hold a blank expression. Almost like my eyes are empty.

I look like I haven’t eaten or taken a shower in days.

God, you look awful! But not nearly as awful as when your parents would hurt you.

Please, stop! I don’t want to think about that right now. I just want to get ready and get this over with. 

I silently started to cry as I looked at all the bruises scattered on my body.

I quickly wiped my eyes when I heard a knock on my bedroom door. When I opened the door, I was met with a pair of warm brown eyes. I instantly recognized this person as the friendly woman who helps me out when I need it. I didn’t have to say anything as I stepped aside and let her into my room.

I closed the door after she entered, and watched as she sat down on the edge of my bed. There was a faint smile on her light brown skin and her short black hair fell into nice little waves around her face. I wish that I could be as happy as she was, but I just don’t have it in me.

“I have some important news for you Jessie.” The woman said, smile still plastered on her face.

“What is it?” I asked. My voice sounding raspier and hoarser than I expected.

The woman stared at me for a moment, mouth slightly agape. Apparently she was surprised to hear my voice like that. However, her signature smile soon returned to her face. Her chocolate orbs still gave me a concerned look.

“Well,” she began. “there are some girls that want to talk with you. They said that they would like to try and become your friends.”

My eyes widened at the news and my heart felt like it was going to leap out of my chest. I started to fidget with the hem of my shirt sleeve. My face felt like it was on fire as I looked down at my feet. I just wanted to be alone with my diary and now I can’t even do that without someone wanting to “be friends.” No one here is ever that nice, except for the woman sitting a few feet away from me of course. They always have some hidden agenda and I don’t want to be a part of that any more than I have to.

The woman must have noticed my agitated state, because she got up from her spot on my bed and walked over to me. Then, without a word, she enveloped me in a warm and kind embrace. It felt weird being shown this much of motherly affection. So, I quickly wiggled free from the embrace and back up a little ways towards my door.

The woman let out a soft sigh as she looked at me. She could tell something was wrong, but she didn’t ask. She finally backed up a little bit, to give me the space I needed. Her arms fell to her sides.

“What did you tell them?” I asked.

“I told them that you weren’t ready for that right now. But, whenever you are then all they have to do is ask.” She replied.

I looked at her, my mouth slightly agape. 

“Why would you do that? After all those hours of therapy sessions with you, why? You know everything that they’ve done to me and you still think that I would to friends with those cows?” I responded, getting angry.

The woman looked defeated as she let another sigh escape her lips. 

“There are some good people in this world Jessie. There is a little bit of good in everybody, but you first have to find the good within yourself. I know that it’s difficult for you, I get it. Really I do. I understand that half the time you wish that you could just hide away in here so no one will ever hurt you. But the problem is, is that if you keep thinking everyone is bad—you’ll live your entire life in fear of everybody. And you’ll never get to experience all the good things in life and in people.” She replied.

I looked up at her and got even more irritated than before. 

“Get out!” I yelled.

She looked at me shocked, but then went to go grab her bag.

“I was hoping that you would be open-minded about all of this. But I can see now that I was wrong in doing so. It was just false hope.” She said as she walked towards the door.

I looked at her with several different emotions written on my face. I didn’t want it to get this way. I didn’t want to ruin the only true, pure friendship I had here. I was on the verge of tears as I walked over to her, wrapping her in a tight embrace. The woman looked at me with a stunned expression on her face, but silently returned the hug.

“Can we talk or do you still want me to leave?” She asked.

I thought about it for a moment, having a silent battle in my head. Finally, I came to a conclusion that I wanted her to stay. I want to try a repair our somewhat damaged friendship.

“I want you to stay, but first I need something to eat.” I replied.

She had a look of understanding in her eyes and gave me another tight squeeze. Then she walked back over to my desk and set her bag back down.

“What would you like to eat? I heard that there were going to be pancakes and waffles on today’s menu.” She said with a smile.

“I would like some waffles and some orange juice if there is any left.” I replied, returning the smile.

She nodded her head and walked out of my room and towards the kitchen to get my breakfast.

~Time Skip~

I was eating the last little bit of my second waffle, when I decided to ask her a question that has been bugging me since she came to visit me.

“What is your name again?” I asked.

She lightly chuckled at my question.

“My name is Ms. Kingston. I can tell that you have a problem remembering my name, so I have a suggestion for you. Perhaps you should write my name down in your diary a few times. That way, you’ll remember me the next time we have a session together.” She replied.

I lightly laughed and nodded my head at her. Ms. Kingston smiled at me and I happily returned the smile.

“So, Ms. huh?” I asked.

“What?” Ms. Kingston asked, confused.

“Ms. implies that you’re no longer married. That you are therefore divorced. So, if you don’t mind my asking what happened?” I explained.

Ms. Kingston shifted uncomfortably in my desk chair. I could tell that I had struck a nerve with her and that she didn’t want to talk about it.

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. I was just curious that’s all.” I said sitting on my bed, back against the wall.

There was silence for a moment. It seemed to have come in and engulfed the whole room. It was so silent, that you could hear a pen drop if it fell. As the silence continued, I finished eating my last waffle and set the plate aside next to the empty glass of orange juice.

“Well you know what they say — curiosity killed the cat.” Ms. Kingston said, chuckling nervously.

I nodded my head, a smirk growing on my face.

“But satisfaction brought it back.” I replied.

There was another silence that fell over the room as we both stared at each other. It was almost like we were daring the other to speak first, but no one was talking. Ms. Kingston shifted in the desk chair again. She momentarily broke eye contact to look down at her notes. I sat criss-crossed on top of my bed and stared out the window at the sky.

“What is it that you’re not telling me Jess?” Ms. Kingston asked.

“What?” I asked, looking at her.

“What is it that you’re not telling me?” She repeated.

“Nothing.” I lied.

“Are you sure?” She asked.

“Yes.” I lied again.

“There is no nagging feeling in the back of your mind that’s screaming at you to tell me something?” She asked.

“Nope. None.” I lied once more.

“All right then.” She started. “What are you planning on wearing to the circus?” She asked.

I stared at her confused for a few moments. 

What the hell kind of a question is that?

The kind where you use words to make a sentence in the form of a question. 

Stop being such a smart ass for once, please! I’m begging you. I don’t think I can handle much more of your bullshit today. 

But you love it, I know you do!

No, I do not! I would rather eat glass than listen to another smart ass remark from you.

Ouch! Okay, I’ll stop. I can take a hint. 

We were just talking about my life problems and now we’re talking about what I plan on wearing to the circus. What the hell is this?

“Well, I planned on wearing my light grey sweater with my black colored leggings. Maybe paint a little pumpkin on my cheek.” I said pointing at my left cheek.

“Well, that —” She began, but I cut her off.

“I was also thinking about possibly painting my nails a pretty Halloween theme.” I replied sheepishly.

Ms. Kingston smiled and softly laughed. She was so nice and sweet, but I can’t help but feel like there’s a reason why she’s being so nice to me. A hidden reason. A very hidden reason.

“Well, that sounds very nice Jess.” She said, glancing at her watch. “It appears that our time is up and you need to get ready. We’ll be leaving in about an hour.”

I sighed and looked down at my hands. I opened my mouth about to say something, but I quickly closed it again. Ms. Kingston apparently didn’t notice it, because she happily got up from my desk chair and walked out the door with her things in hand.

I went over to my closet. It was so small, barely any room for anything. But I somehow managed to make it work. I grabbed my light grey sweater and light grey converse. I walked back over to my bed and laid my sweater on top of my bed. Then I placed my converse on the floor by my bed. Afterwards, I walked over to my small dresser and pulled out my black leggings.

I grabbed the clothes and went into the bathroom. As I was taking my day clothes off, from yesterday, I silently stared at the bruises on my uncovered skin. 

I’m going to have to cover these up.

Well no shit, Sherlock!

Shut up! The remaining make-up I do have is just about to run out. 

I could’ve told you th—. Oh wait, I did!

Shut up! Well, great!

I walked back out to the dresser, opened the top drawer, lifted up some clothes in the far back, and grabbed the make-up.

~Time Skip~

I am currently waiting on Ms. Kingston to sneak me some face paint. Technically, we’re not supposed to have stuff like make-up or face paint with us in the orphanage. So the fact that she’s even helping me out with this is a miracle.

I’m wearing my light grey sweater that covers up the bruises on my arms. I couldn’t cover up a lot of the bruises because of the amount of make-up I had left. I did, however, get to cover up the bruises on my neck and the burn marks on my wrists.

As I curled my blonde locks, I heard a soft knock on my door. I stopped curling my hair and walked over to the door. I stood there in that spot, trying to listen to who it was. There was a beat of silence, until another soft knock rang out.

“Who is it?” I asked.

“It’s me, Ms. Kingston. I have the paint.” Ms. Kingston replied though the door.

I opened the door a tad bit to see if it really was Ms. Kingston and sure enough it was. So, I opened the door all the way to let her inside. Once she entered my room, I closed the door and walked over towards her.

“Here you go, Jessie.” Ms. Kingston said, handing me the face paint.

“Oh my gosh, thank you! I owe you big time for this one!” I replied taking the paint and going back into the bathroom.

“It’s quite all right Jess. It was no trouble at all. Really.” Ms. Kingston replied, smiling softly.

“Oh, don’t be silly. You did something for me that really means a lot. I mean, you could have been caught. —” I said, but was cut off.

“But I wasn’t.” Ms. Kingston replied.

“And I am grateful that you weren’t, but I’m telling you that I owe you big time for this.” I replied, walking out of the bathroom with half of the pumpkin drawn on my face and my blonde locks completely curled.

“Well…” She trailed off.

“Yes? What is it?” I asked.

“No, nevermind, you would never agree.” She replied, turning around and walking towards the window.

“Don’t nevermind, me. What is it? What can I do to repay you?” I replied.

“There is one thing.” She said.

“And that would be?” I asked.

“I would like to know what it is that you’re hiding from me.”

“What?”

“Tell me what you’re hiding from me.”

“I already told you I’m not hiding anything.”

“You’re lying!”

“No, I’m not!”

“Why won’t you tell me?”

“There’s nothing to tell, okay?! Why do you keep insisting that I’m lying to you about this?”

“Because you’ve done it before.”

“Done what before?”

“Lied to me!”

“Name one time, just one. Maybe then I’ll believe you or vice versa.”

“August 26, 2001.”

There’s a deadly silence throughout the entire room. The tension is so thick that you could take a knife to cut through it. Ms. Kingston is glaring at me, now. But not the kind of glare friends give other friends, this is more of a shooting daggers glare. My face is displaying anger and irritation, but my mind is screaming at me to throw her out of my room. 

She knows?! Wait, she can’t know! Nobody but me, is supposed to know about that!

But she does, idiot! You gave yourself away somehow. What did I tell you? You’re nothing but a screw up like your parents.

No, I’m not! 

Oh, but you are! And there is absolutely nothing you can do about it. Well there’s —

I thought that she was my friend.

She’s not, she never has been and she never will be! She was just using you to her advantage.

No, she would never do that! You’re lying!

I’m not lying to you, J. I’ve never lied to you, not once. But her — she has and she’ll do it again.

Stop it! Just stop it! I don’t want to listen to anymore of your lies. Because that’s what you are — you’re a liar!

J, listen to me! She knows and that’s bad for us!

I hate to admit it, but you’re right!

See! Now there’s only one thing we can do to make sure she doesn’t tell anyone.

No! I won’t do it! I can’t!

Wake up, you idiot! If you don’t do it, then she’ll run and tell anyone she can find.

If I do this, do you promise that it’ll be the last one?

I promise. Now just do it already!

“Enough!” I yelled, clutching the side of my head with my hands.

Ms. Kingston momentarily shows concern, but just as soon as it was there it was gone. Once the voices stop talking for a moment, I walk into the bathroom and open up one of the little cabinets. Once I grab the razor, I walk back into my room. Ms. Kingston must have noticed it because she screamed out in terror.

I quickly stalk over to her, covering her mouth with my hand, and put the razor close to her neck.

“You and I could have been friends, but you just had to go and ruin everything.” I said, digging the razor into her neck.

There was a muffled response from her, before she bit my hand. I let out a yelp of pain, momentarily releasing my grip on her. She took the opportunity to run to the door. I growled under my breath and threw the razor, having it land in the center of her back. She let out a small yelp as she slid down the door.

Blood started forming on the back of her shirt. I walked over to her and rolled her onto one side. Her breathing was getting shallower and shallower by the moment. She looked up at me with sad eyes and I looked back at her with angry ones.

“W-why are y-you doing t-this to m-me?” She asked with a shaky breath.

“Why? Why?! You know, it’s funny you ask that because I could ask you the same thing.” I replied, kneeling down beside her.

“W-what did I-I ever d-do to y-you?” She asked.

“You knew too much.”


	2. "Promise Me"

~2 year later~

~~~~~~Jessica’s P.O.V.~~~~~~

I was walking down a dark hallway. I couldn’t see anything, so I outstretched my hands and felt a cold concrete wall. As I walked further and further down the hallway, I noticed a tiny amount of light pouring into the end of the hallway. So, I continued to follow the light.

When I reached the light, I rested my hands back down at my sides again. I noticed that I wasn’t wearing my shorts and tank-top anymore. I was now wearing a black and white striped dress, that came down and ended at my knees. Surprisingly, it felt comfortable.

My hands reached up and touched the dress. It felt so soft and comforting. I don’t normally wear dresses, but this one is one that I wouldn’t mind wearing. I was brought out of my thoughts, however, when I heard voices.

The voices sounded like they were coming from further down the lighted hallway. My hands fell back to my sides, as I walked down the hallway towards the voices. Halfway there, I heard the faint sound of laughter. His laughter. That’s when I knew why I was there. I have to break him out. I have to see him — to talk to him. I need him.

My pace quickened and I was soon brought face to face with two guards standing in the middle of a hallway. They apparently hadn’t noticed me yet or if they had they didn’t show it. So, I tried to quickly and quietly walk around them. Oh, what a mistake that was.

The guards immediately stopped talking and stared at me with angry expressions. I froze in my spot, hoping that I hadn’t screwed up too bad. There was silence for a few moments, before they pushed me backwards a little.

Ouch!

That’s what you get for being an idiot!

Shut up! At least I tried to do something.

Yeah and now you might get far worse punishment than before.

What’s the worst that they’re gonna do that hasn’t already been done?

This is your fault. None of this would’ve happened if you hadn’t been such a damn idiot.

Shut up! You don’t know what you’re talking about.

Oh, but I do know. You are so naive to think that I don’t.

I have to see him.

He doesn’t want to see you. Not after what you did for him to end up here.  
I need to talk to him.

He doesn’t want to talk to you. Instead he’s laughing at you. You mean nothing to him.

You’re wrong, he does care about me. He loves me.

Ha! That’s what you think. But it’s not the truth.

I have to get him out of here.

Why so you can get him locked up here again. Nice try, J, but it won’t work.

Shut up! Just, shut up!

You’re just one big screw up after another. You’re a lost cause, J.

I said SHUT UP!

The guards were still standing in the middle of the hallway, there guns locked and loaded. Once the voices had ceased, I stared at the guards irritatedly.

“I want to speak to him. I need to see him.” I said, trying to walk by them.

“I’m sorry, miss, but you can’t see him. He’s not allowed to have any visitors.” One of the guards said.

I started to get furious with him. Not allowed to have visitors! Not allowed to have visitors, my ass! I tried to walk by them again, but the other guard grabbed my arms and started to drag me away. I screamed and kicked, trying to get out of his grip.

“Let go of me! Let me go! Hey, you son of a bitch, I said let me go! Get off of me! Get away from me!” I yelled at the guard.

“Grab her legs, try to restrain her!” The guard, holding my arms, growled at the other guard.

As the other guard was walking up to me, I head butted the guard restraining my arms. He stumbled back and I took the opportunity to kick the other guard’s feet out from under him. Just as the guard fell on his back, the other one went to go grab my arm again. This time I punched him in the face, just as the other guard got off the ground. When the first guard went down, I tried to punch the second one. He apparently saw me coming, because he blocked my punch. Then he punched me in the face.

Kill them!

No! I’ll just knock them out.

If you knock them out now, they’ll become an even bigger problem later.

But you promised me that after the last one I could stop killing.

This is the day that I have for once lied to you.

I hate you!

I know! But promise me you’ll kill them.

Fine! I’ll do my best to.

That’s my girl!

After my back hit the floor, the second guard straddled me and started punching me some more. I tried to block the punches as best as I could, but there were a few that made it. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the other guard’s gun a few feet away.

If I could just reach it.

Knock the guard off and get the gun.

I’m trying, but he’s so much stronger than I am.

Try harder! Think about your parents and what they did to you.

I blocked the guard’s punch towards my face and head butted him. When he fell back on the ground, I took the opportunity to get the gun. Just as I was about to grab the gun, the guard grabbed my ankle and started to pull me back.

This guy is really starting to piss me off.

For once, I agree with you.

I used my free leg to kick the guy in the face. When he let go of my ankle, I crawled over to the gun and shot the guard in the face. Blood splatter and brain matter went everywhere. I slowly stood up and saw that my dress got stained a little bit. There was even a little drop of blood on my cheek. I walked over to the guard and shot him again.

“That’s for staining my dress.” I said, angrily.

The other guard slowly started to wake up.

“Wakey, wakey!” I sang, walking over to the guard.

“Wh-what are you —?” The guard asked.

Because I didn’t have time for any questions, I just shot him a couple times to make myself feel better. Then I searched his pockets for the keys that would open his cell. When I found them, I ran down the hallway.  
As I was running I called out to him to try and see where he was, but all I got was his laugh. The laugh that is my favorite thing to hear. It’s music to my ears and I can’t help but smile when I hear it.

I got to the end of the hallway that broke off into two directions. Left and right. I didn’t know which way to go. Then an idea popped into my head. Probably not the best one, but hey at least it’s worth a shot.

“Jerome! Jerome, if you can hear me — I need you to laugh for me, okay?” I said, looking down both hallways.

Then I heard his laughter fill my ears. But which way is is it coming from? It sounds like it’s coming from all around me.

Go left.

Go right.

I started to run down the hallway on the right, but soon realized that it was not the right direction.

Shit!

I quickly turned around and ran down the other hallway. As I was running, I heard people yelling at me to help them. I wanted to, but I couldn’t. I had a mission to complete — getting him out of here.

I stopped running when out of the corner of my eye, I saw a glimpse of flaming red hair. As I walked closer to his cell, I held up the keys for him to see.

“I’m getting you of here.” I said, trying to unlock the door.

Shit! This isn’t the right key.

Try the one on the far left.

“Aww, Gorgeous you shouldn’t have.” Jerome replied, playfully.

This one isn’t the right one either.

Try the one on the far right, then.

“Of course I should have! I’m the one who got you into this mess, now I’m going to be the one to get you out of it.” I replied, trying to unlock the cell door with the key.

It worked! Ha, ha!

Don’t celebrate just yet, you still have to get him out.

“Aww, Princess I’m flattered.” Jerome said, smirking at me.

I unlocked the cell door and walked inside, wrapping him in a hug. He was a little surprised at first, but soon returned the hug. He was warm and smelled like cinnamon. God, how I missed this. Missed him, so damn much.

“I love you, J.” I said, looking up at him.

His face softened and he smiled down at me. It was a true genuine smile, the kind that just melts my heart. He looked so adorable like that. I mean, he always looks adorable no matter what.

“I love you too, Princess.” Jerome replied, giving me a soft yet passionate kiss. I immediately kissed back, deepening the kiss.

Just then the sound of the alarms going off filled my ears. It was so loud, that I wanted to cover my ears. But I knew that we had to get out of there now, otherwise the escape plan would have been for nothing.

I jolted up in bed, looking around my room. The room was dark, except for the moonlight flowing in through the window. I looked down at my clothing and saw that I was wearing my shorts and tank-top.

I also noticed that my pajamas were soaked in sweat. I put a hand to my chest to try and calm my breathing. I heard footsteps running against the hardwood floors towards my room. My bedroom door was flung open and I slightly jumped at the noise. I relaxed, however, when I saw that it was Barbara.

She rushed over to my side, turning on my little lamp light. She looked at me concerned and starting giving me a once over.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

“I’m making sure that you didn’t hurt yourself.” Barbra replied.

“Was I screaming again?” I asked.

Just as she was about to answer, another pair of footsteps sounded out across the apartment. Then the shadow of another person entered the room. As they walked closer into the room, I recognized them. It was Jim, my adoptive father.

“Jessica, are you okay?” He asked, still a little tired.

“I’ve been better. But I’ll be fine, I promise.” I replied shakily.

Barbara eyed me skeptically, then walked over to my closet and grabbed a pair of clean clothes.

“What are you doing, Mom?” I asked.

Barbara turned towards me with a smile. She walked back over to me, handing me the change of clothes.

“Here, sweetie. I thought you might want a fresh change of clothes.” She replied.

Jim walked over to us and helped me up off my bed. I gave him a smile and a shy ‘thanks!’ He returned the smile and gave a nod of his head.

“I’m sorry for waking you guys up. I know that I do this a lot, but I promise I don’t mean to.” I said, wanting to break down and cry right there.

“No, hey, it’s okay. We know you don’t mean to. Why don’t you get changed and then if you want to, we can sit down and talk about it?” Barbara said, gently rubbing my arm.

I silently nodded my head and walked out of the room headed towards the bathroom. I turned the water for the shower on and waited for it to heat up. Once it was hot enough for me, I stripped and got into the shower. While I was showering, I started to get lost in my thoughts.

Who the hell is Jerome?

Your dream guy, maybe?

I don’t think so. I don’t even know anybody named Jerome.

Just because you don’t know him, doesn’t mean he isn’t your dream guy.

I don’t know. It all seemed so real, like it was actually happening.

Maybe that’s because you’re seeing the future.

Yeah, right! Me? See the future? That’s down right hilarious.

Hey, it could happen! I’m just saying, maybe you’re seeing your idealistic future.

An idealistic future involving me breaking out some ginger who’s as nutty as I am? And killing two Asylum guards in the process? Yeah, I don’t think so.

You keep telling yourself that, J. Keep telling yourself that and, hey, maybe one day you might actually believe it.

I finished washing my hair and body, trying to forget about all of what happened. Once I finished my shower, I grabbed a towel and wrapped it around my small frame, stepping out of the shower.

As I was drying my body off, I heard a strange noise in the room. When I looked around, however, there was no one. I brushed it off as me just being paranoid though. After I changed into my fresh pair of clothes, I started to comb my hair. Then I heard another strange noise and looked around again, but still no one.

When I turned back around towards the mirror, though, I caught a glimpse of another person. But it was very foggy, because the glass fogged up while I was taking my shower. So, I wiped the fog away and I saw exactly who it was. It was the same person I keep seeing in my dreams. Jerome.

“Hiya, Gorgeous.” He said, waving at me.

I scream as I turned around to look behind me. When I did, I still saw him and he was staring at me with an evil-like grin on his face. My heart started to beat faster and faster, to the point where I thought it might actually jump right out of my chest. I heard a faint ringing sound in my ears and my whole body started to tremble.

“What do you want?” I asked.

Jerome’s grin turned into a pout, as he walked closer towards me. I quietly felt behind me and grabbed one of my shampoo bottles. I gripped it tightly enough in my hand that it wouldn’t open, but it would still stay in my hand.

“Aww, I’m hurt Princess. I thought you’d be happy to see me.” Jerome replied, putting a hand over his heart feigning mock hurt.

I rolled my eyes at him, trying to suppress a smile. My teeth bit my cheek, while my hand still had the shampoo bottle ready if need be.

“Why are you here, Jerome?” I asked.

Jerome now wore a smile on his face. He walked a little closer towards me, staring at me the entire time. I wanted to walk back — to put some distance between us — but I couldn’t. It was like I was frozen to my spot by the sink.

“I’m here ‘cause I wanted to see ya, Doll. I’ve missed you.” Jerome said inching closer and closer.

“Well, I haven’t missed you.” I replied, tightly gripping on the bathroom sink with my free hand.

Jerome playfully put his hand over his heart again. Smile still on his face as he inched closer towards me. I took a few steps back to maintain some distance between us.

“Ouch! You wounded me, Gorgeous.” Jerome said, dramatically acting like he had been shot.

Good! Maybe then, he’ll leave me alone.

You don’t really mean that, J.

Yes, I really do.

No, you really don’t. You love him too much.

I don’t even know him!

Sure you do!

No, I don’t! I’ve never even met him before!

Sure you have! You’ve met him in your dreams and he’s here in front of you right now.

That doesn’t count.  
Why?

Because he’s only a figment of my imagination. He’s not real. And right now, he’s just a hallucination — something I conjured up with my mind.

You and I both know that’s not true.

Why am I even arguing with you? You’re just some voice in my head that won’t go away.

“And here I thought we were having a bonding moment.” Jerome continued. Then he suddenly broke out into a small fit of laughter, which caused me to lightly chuckle too. He stopped laughing and stared at me for a moment.

“Are you even real right now or are you just a figment of my imagination?” I asked.

Jerome put on a sly smirk as he walked closer towards me. I instinctively moved backwards a little bit more, till my back was against the bathroom door.

“I’m whatever you want me to be, Doll face.” He said suggestively, wiggling his eyebrows.

Oh, ew. That’s gross!

It’s actually kinda hot. He is looking so fine like that. Mmm, perfection at it’s finest.

You have problems. Serious, deep, psychological problems.

I would say that’s not true, but since we’re pretty much the same person — you — then it is.

Oh, shut up! I just want him to leave for the evening so I can try and get a decent amount of sleep.

“Well, I want you to be gone.” I replied.

Jerome appeared to show a look of…hurt? But why would he care, it’s not like he’s actually real. Or that he might actually care for me in that way, right? Right?

“You and I both know that can’t happen.” Jerome replied, looking at me with sad almost pleading eyes.

You’re an idiot, you know that right?

No I am not, thank you very much.

You’re not welcome. Please, let him stay?

No!

He looks so sad and lonely. Kind of like a lost puppy looking for it’s owner.

Ha! You think you can guilt trip me into letting him stay? Please, I’ve been down this road several times with numerous people.  
I’m not trying to guilt trip you into doing anything. I was just stating the facts, that’s all.

I’m sorry but my answer is still no. I have to stick by my decision, no matter the consequences.

I hate you!

I know.

“I said GO!” I shouted, throwing the shampoo bottle at him. Instead of it hitting him like I wanted, it went straight through him and busted open on the opposite wall. Jerome started to fade away as I slowly slid down the door in shock.

What the hell just happened?

~Time Skip~

I walked outside the apartment onto the balcony. The air was so cold yet it felt refreshing to my skin. It felt nice, really nice. Breathing in the air with a soft sigh, I closed my eyes relaxing in the moment. The sounds of cars driving by soon filled my ears, seeming like music to my ears. Then I started to feel tiny raindrops fall on my face, making me smile in genuine happiness.

I apparently hadn’t heard anyone, much less Barbara, walk outside. I was brought out of my thoughts as the woman’s voice filled my ears.

“So, you wanna talk about it?” Barbara asked.

With my eyes still closed, I silently shook my head. She must have understood what I meant, because she didn’t push the matter. Instead she extended her hand out towards me and I instantly recognized the smell of ground coffee beans.

Opening my eyes, I graciously took the cup and began drinking. She smiled a warm, motherly smile at me. This is one of the many reasons why I love my adoptive parents. If I don’t want want to talk about something, then they don’t push it. Instead they lend support until I’m ready to talk about anything.

“I have these dreams, but I don’t know what to make of them.” I said quietly.

“What are they about?” Barbara asked.

“That’s the part I’m still unclear on. But what I do know for sure is, is that there’s always this guy.” I replied.

“A guy? What do you mean a guy?” Barbara asked.

“He’s not really a guy, more like a teenager that’s around my age. He has fiery red hair and this laugh.” I replied.

“A laugh?” Barbara asked, confused.

“Yeah. I don’t really know how to describe it, but his laugh is unique and very distinctive.” I replied.

“Ooh! Well, it sounds like you’ve got a secret someone on your mind.” Barbara said, teasingly.

“Oh, shut up! It’s not like that. Actually I —” I replied, before she cut me off.

“Did you just tell me to shut up, young lady?” Barbara asked, trying to be serious.

“Yes. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to. It just slipped out of my mouth faster than I could catch it.” I replied.

We both lightly chuckled at each other. Me at Barbara for trying to act serious like Jim and Barbara at me for the little joke I made a few seconds ago.

“Actually I have no idea what it’s like.” I said, sipping on my coffee.

“What what’s like?” Barbara asked.

“What the whole meaning is behind ‘mystery dream guy.’” I replied, chuckling.

“Ooh, ‘mystery dream guy’ huh? So that’s what you’re calling him now?” Barbara asked, playfully.

I playfully rolled my eyes at her. Another thing I like about Barbara is that we can tease each other and we don’t take offense to it. Even though she was my adoptive mother, she’s more like a big sister to me.

“Okay, look, he has a name. I’m just choosing not to say it out loud.” I replied, watching little rain drops fall into my coffee.

Barbara watched me closely, as she continued to drink her coffee. If she could tell something was wrong, she didn’t mention it. Then again, why would she? She’ll just wait until I’m ready to talk.

“Why?” Barbara asked.

I was broken out of my thoughts, by the sound of her voice. I, finally, looked over at her in confusion.

“What?” I asked.

“Why?” Barbara repeated.

“Why what?” I asked, even more confused.

“Why won’t you say ‘mystery dream guy’s’ name out loud?” Barbara asked.

I sighed as I set my coffee cup down on the ledge. One of my hands brushed through my blonde locks, while the other was resting on my right hip.

“It’s complicated.” I said.

“Well, I have time. Besides, your father’s already gone back to bed.” Barbara replied, chuckling.

I laughed at that, knowing full well what she meant. Barbara and Jim have to go to bed at the same time, otherwise he snores leaving her wide awake.  
“Well, a couple of hours ago I saw him.” I replied.

“What do you mean?” Barbara asked.

“Like I actually saw him.” I replied.

“Wh— did you sneak out again?” Barbara asked.

“What? No!” I replied harshly.

Barbara shot me a warning glare and I instantly felt bad.

“No, I didn’t.” I replied, softer.

Barbara’s face softened as she now wore a soft smile on her face.

“He looked as real as you and me but he wasn’t.”

“What do you mean, like a, like a ghost?” Barbara asked.

I shook my head, knowing that wasn’t it.

“No, it wasn’t that at all. The two of us were able to carry on a conversation and he looked so life-like — so real.” I rambled.

“Oh, so like a hallucination?” Barbara asked.

I pondered that question for a moment. Then, I silently nodded my head. That had to be the only possible explanation, it just had to be.

“Yes, exactly like a hallucination.” I replied.

“So what happened?” Barbara pushed.

“Well, I, um, I…I can’t talk about it. I’m sorry, it’s just—” I replied, but was once again cut off.

“It’s just not something you feel comfortable talking to me about.” Barbara provided.

I didn’t say anything, just nodded my head once more. I picked up my coffee cup and drank the rest of it. I was about to head inside when Barbara stopped me.

“Your father and I talked.” Barbara said.

“About what?” I asked.

“About your nightmares and how you need professional help.” Barbara replied.

There was a beat of silence, neither of us saying anything.

“Look, Jess you don’t talk to us. We keep hoping that eventually you’ll open up to us if we give you some time and space. But it turns out that, that was a bad decision. So, we talked it over and we decided that you should see a therapist.” Barbara said.

“I don’t need to sit through mind numbing therapy sessions talking to someone who doesn’t care about my problems.” I replied, walking back inside the apartment.

They’re trying to trap you. To cage you in.

They don’t really care about you. If they truly did, then they wouldn’t being forcing you to go to therapy.

They don’t really love you.

They’re lying to you, just like everyone else.

Get out while you still can.

It’s the only way.

There’s no other option.

[§]=[§]=[§]=[§]=[§]=[§]=[§]=[§]=[§]=[§]=[§]=[§]=[§]

~~~~~~Third Person P.O.V.~~~~~~

Jessica sat in a light blue chair in an open office area. Her blonde hair was curled and she was wearing her long-sleeved grey sweater with a pair of black jeans. She wore a pair of red converse on her feet.

Her legs were bouncing anxiously as the time slowly ticked by. The woman sitting across from Jessica was a fair skinned brunette. She wore a white, button-up blouse with a tan pencil skirt. On her feet she wore black, four-inch, high heels.

The brunette woman let out a sigh as she looked over at the blonde across from her.

“Jessica, the only way this therapy is going to work is if you talk to me. Tell me everything that’s bothering you. You can’t keep it bottled up inside forever.” The brunette said.

The blonde mumbled something under her breath as she rolled her eyes at the woman.

“Don’t call me Jessica! You don’t get to call me that.” She replied.

The brunette softly smiled, thinking that Jessica’s statement was a little improvement.

“Alright, then what shall I call you?” The brunette asked.

“J, you can call me J.” Jessica replied.

The brunette’s smile slightly grew wider as she nodded her head at Jessica.

“Well, J, you can call me Dr. Rosewood.” Dr. Rosewood replied.

Jessica silently nodded her head as she stared out the window at the rainy weather in Gotham.

“J is it okay if I ask you a few questions?” Dr. Rosewood asked.  
Jessica was silent for a moment, but eventually nodded her head once more.

“Okay. What’s currently bothering you in your life right now?” The doctor asked.

“Being forced to be here, for one.” Jessica said, glancing over at the woman.

Dr. Rosewood lightly sighed as she scribbled something on her notepad.

“J, before we go any further with this therapy you have to be open and honest with me. I’m not here to harm you, I’m not your enemy. You can think of me as a friend or as a sort of guide, if you will, to helping you find who you truly are. Whatever happens or is said within these four walls remains within these four walls.” Dr. Rosewood replied.

Should I trust her or should I not?

You should trust her, she’s a professional. She won’t judge you, she’ll understand you.

You shouldn’t trust her. You don’t need her to help you find out who you truly are, because you already have.

She seems nicer than the last one.

She is.

It’s just a front — a false facade. She says she’s your friend, but she’s really your foe.

Shut up! Trust me, J.

Why should I, you lied to me once already?

That’s right, J. Listen to me.

Shut up! I barely know you, you’re just some random new voice.

There’s no reason for you to be mean. I’m just trying to help you, J.

Stop calling me that! You don’t get to call me that!

Don’t I? After all I am you, too.

No, you’re not. Leave me alone!

Nope, no can do. Sorry, it’s out of my hands.

J, listen to me. I know I lied to once and I’m sorry, but please trust me. Dr. Rosewood is a professional, she’ll listen to your problems and she won’t judge you. If anything, she’ll understand you a little bit better.

Just shut up! Both of you!

“I keep having these unexplainable dreams. More like nightmares, if I’m being technical about it.” Jessica started.

Dr. Rosewood’s smile brightened as she scribbled some more on her notepad.

“What do you mean when you say ‘unexplainable,’ J?” Dr. Rosewood asked.

“The nightmares are always centered around one boy about my age. But what goes on around him in the nightmares is something I can’t really describe.” Jessica continued.

“What does this boy look like?” Dr. Rosewood asked.

Jessica looked back outside the window, letting out a shaky breath as visions of Jerome filled her head.

“He’s tall — taller than I am, fiery red hair, emerald green eyes, and pale skin.” Jessica replied, hands starting to shake.

Dr. Rosewood noticed her behavior as she spoke, writing this all down on her notepad.

“Does this boy have a name?” Dr. Rosewood asked.

Jessica let silent tears fall from her eyes as she nodded her head.

“Yes.” Jessica began. “His name is Jerome.”

Dr. Rosewood scribbled some more on her notepad, while keeping a close eye on Jessica.

“Why would you call these ‘unexplainable’ dreams nightmares?” Dr. Rosewood asked.

“Because every time I’m with him, in the dreams, I see my true self. I see what I truly am and I embrace it. I feel safe with him and that scares the hell out of me.” Jessica replied.

“Why?” Dr. Rosewood asked.

Jessica’s head whipped back around to look at Dr. Rosewood. Jessica’s eyes immediately locked with the woman’s, neither one saying anything for a long time. Finally, Jessica broke the silent tension with her next words.

“Because my true self is what causes people to leave me. So the fact that he’s sticking around and letting me embrace who I truly am is frightening to me.” Jessica said.

“Who are you truly?” Dr. Rosewood asked, intrigued.

“What time is it?” Jessica deflected.

Dr. Rosewood wore a scowl on her face as she checked the time on her watch.

“There is still a minute left in our session.” Dr. Rosewood replied.

Without another word, Jessica got up from the chair and walked out of the office. She was starting to have a panic attack mixed with a mental breakdown. Dr. Rosewood had made her feel so relaxed that the blonde almost revealed her deepest darkest secret.

When the blonde reached the elevator, she heard a noise coming from a hallway behind her. But when she turned around, there was no one. She shook it off as her just being paranoid during her panic/mental breakdown.

Jessica was just about to walk into the elevator, until she was met with a pair of emerald green eyes and fiery red hair. Her heart started to beat so fast that she thought it would beat right out of her chest. Her whole body started to tremble and her head started to spin. She was getting dizzier and dizzier, making her think that she would pass out at any moment.

“Y’know, Gorgeous, we really need to stop running into each other like this.” Jerome said, laughing.

With that, Jessica collapsed on the white marble floor, passing out. Dr. Rosewood came running down the hallway towards the elevator, calling 911 as she went.

“This is 9-1-1, what is your emergency?” The operator asked.

“Yes, a patient of mine just collapsed in front of the elevators.” Dr. Rosewood replied.

“What is her name, ma’am?” The operator asked.

“Jessica Gordon, she’s Detective Jim Gordon’s daughter.” Dr. Rosewood replied.

Dr. Rosewood ran up to Jessica, kneeling down beside her trying to find a pulse.

“Ma’am, what is your location?” The operator asked.

“I can’t tell if she’s alive or dead. She looks dead.” Dr. Rosewood panicked.

“Ma’am what is your location?” The operator asked.

“1143 Middleton Avenue. I’m in the third building on the right, fourth story by the elevators. Please hurry, I don’t think she’s breathing.” Dr. Rosewood rambled.

“All right, we’ve sent dispatch to your location and let the girl’s father know what happened. What’s your name ma’am?” The operator said.

“D-Doctor Angelica Rosewood.” Dr. Rosewood replied.

“Well, Dr. Rosewood, I need you to stay on the line with me until dispatch arrives okay?” The operator asked.

“O-Okay.” Angelica stammered.

~Time Skip~

A month. That’s how long Jessica had been in the hospital. She was still unresponsive and the doctors were starting to get worried that she might never wake up. Jim had hope that his daughter would wake up soon. He had to, it was pretty much the only thing that kept him going nowadays.

Barbara would practically stay at the hospital every day, waiting for her daughter to wake up. She pretty much spent her nights at the hospital. She packed clothes, a toothbrush, a pillow, and Jessica’s favorite picture. It’s the one where Jim, Barbara, and Jessica are sitting around the fireplace at Christmas one year and they’re laughing over something that was said.

Jim quietly walked into the room, trying to wake up Barbara who was sleeping on the couch. Barbara must have sensed his presence because she woke up almost immediately after he entered.

“How is she?” Jim asks, sitting in the chair by Jessica’s bed.

“Worse. The doctors are thinking of pulling the plug.” Barbara replies quietly.

“What?! They can’t do that!” Jim says furious.

“Actually they can. If Jessica doesn’t wake up soon, then they’ll pull the plug, Jim. I don’t want to lose her. She doesn’t deserve this. We shouldn’t have made her go to therapy.” Barbara says starting to break down.

Jim’s angered expression starts to grow softer as he walks over to Barbara and wraps her in a hug. She cries into his shoulder as she tightly hugs him. He holds her with the same amount of strength. Suddenly, Jessica’s hand lightly twitches.

Out of the corner of her eye, Barbara saw something move on Jessica’s bed. She froze and stopped crying. Jim confused, looked at Barbra then at what she was staring at. As they continued to stare at Jessica’s bed, they saw that Jessica’s hand started to move.

Surprised, shocked, excited, anxious, nervous. Those are all the emotions to describe the couple as they witnessed their adoptive daughter slowly wake up. Jessica’s eyes flutter open and she looks around the room. When she hears the sound of the beeping heart monitor, she freaks out which causes the monitor to grow crazy. A nurse rushes in and lets out a gasp of surprise and amazement.

[§]=[§]=[§]=[§]=[§]=[§]=[§]=[§]=[§]=[§]=[§]=[§]=[§]

Back at the apartment, Jessica is sitting on the balcony overlooking Gotham. She has her eyes closed as she listens to the sounds of everything around her, taking it all in. There is a cool breeze that lightly nips at her skin and she smiles. Her smile only grows when she hears the faint sound of laughter. His laughter.

Yeah, she’s come around to Jerome. Instead of hating and freaking out over him like she used to, she actually enjoys his company -- even if he is just a hallucination.

“What to you so long, this time?” Jessica asks playfully, eyes still closed.

Jerome laughs then replies, “Oh, you know. I always gotta look my best for you, Doll face.”

Jessica lightly blushes then finally opens her eyes. She turns towards Jerome and asks, “Why are you so mushy?”

Jerome laughs and tilts his head slightly confused. “Mushy? Me?” He asks amused.

“Yeah. You’re always so ooey-gooey mushy with me. Why?” Jessica replies smiling slightly.

“Ooey-gooey mushy? Really?” Jerome asks even more amused.

“Yeah, you know? Like the inside of a cookie. On the outside it’s strong, tough, and protective. But on the inside it’s ooey-gooey, sweet, and mushy. Like you.” Jessica replies with a smile on her face.

“So, I’m a cookie now?” Jerome asks a playful grin on his face.

“Yeah. You look so yummy right now, I could take a bite out of you.” Jessica replies seductively. She walks closer to Jerome and bites her lip. Then, she leans in like she’s about to kiss him and turns around to walk back to her previous spot.

Stunned and a little bit proud, Jerome stares at Jessica with a smirk on his face. His face was lightly flushed and his heart was hammering in his chest to the point he thought it might beat out of his chest.

“Wow. Jessica finally makes a sexual innuendo. Never thought I’d see the day.” Jerome teases, walking up behind Jessica.

“Oh, shut up. You know you like it.” Jessica replies with a playful smile on her face. She turns her head to see Jerome standing behind her.

My God, he looks so hot.

See I told you, you really loved him.

Oh, shut up. I’m just glad I’m so carefree with him.

He makes you feel alive.

Yes. Yes, he does.

“Correction. I love it.” Jerome says darkly as he walks closer to Jessica, wrapping his arms around her small frame. He rests his head on top of hers and Jessica gets an uneasy feeling in the pit of her stomach.

“Oh…” Jessica says then trails off. She’s never had someone affect her this much before and it was taking her some getting used to.

Jerome must have sensed her uneasiness, because he immediately went into a protective almost panicked mode. “What’s wrong? Are you okay? Did I hurt?” Jerome asks taking a step back from her, releasing his arms from around her waist.

Jessica instantly missed his warmth and his touch on her body. In all honesty, she craved it. Lived for it. She turned around with a small smile on her face as she looked up at Jerome. She felt bad for making him worry like this, she didn’t mean to.

“Everything’s okay, J. I’m all right, I promise. It’s just…” Jessica begins but trails off.

“It’s just what?” Jerome asks.

“It’s just…I’ve never had someone love me for exactly who I am and help me embrace my true self. At first it scared the hell out of me whenever I would have those dreams and see you. But now, now it’s all I live for. You’re all I live for. I know this sounds cheesy, but without you my life seems like a life that’s not worth living. I hate the fact that you’re not real and that when I wake up tomorrow you won’t be there to share the moment with me. I hate that and I desperately wish it could be different but it can’t.” Jessica says while starting to tear up.

“Jessica…” Jerome says going to walk towards her. The blonde stops him by holding up her hand.

“No. You need to listen to this. I love you, Jerome. I do and I wish beyond anything that you could be real. I need you to promise me something and not ever break that promise, okay?” Jessica continues with tears falling down her face. Jerome feels like his heart is breaking and he just desperately wants to wrap Jessica into a warm embrace and tell her that everything’s going to be okay, but he can’t. So he silently nods his head instead.

“I need you to promise me that you’ll be real. Can you do that…for me? Please!” Jessica begs as more tears start to fall down her pale cheeks.

“I told you once already, Gorgeous, I can be whatever you want me to be.” Jerome replies, a sad smile on his lips and silent tears start to fall down his face as well.

Jessica sadly smiles at the memory as she silently nods her head. “Thank you, Jerome! I love you.” She says walking closer to him, wrapping her arms around his waist.

Jerome’s smiled grew a tad bit as he hugged her back. “I love you too, Jessica. I love you, too.” Jerome replies looking down at her with tear-filled eyes.

When Jessica pulls away from Jerome, he begins to slowly fade away and Jessica turns her head to look away. Before Jerome could completely disappear, Jessica kisses him softly yet passionately. Her arms going up to wrap around his neck, hands roaming his hair. Jerome’s hands immediately went to her waist, pulling her closer to him, deepening the kiss. Just when things had started to get really passionate, Jessica had to pull away for air, resting her forehead against Jerome’s.

“Goodbye, Jerome Valeska.” Jessica says quietly.

“Goodbye, Jessica Gordon.” Jerome replies just as quiet. With that he completely disappears and Jessica breaks down into a waterfall of tears that she can’t control. She drops to her knees and covers her face with her hands. She felt like the only good thing in her life had been ripped completely away from her and she was never going to get it back. She felt like dying right then and there, but then she remembered the promise she had Jerome make her. And that was all she needed to wipe the tears from her eyes and brave another day. Jessica Gordon knew then that she would meet Jerome Valeska again soon, and that was all the hope she needed.


	3. Pilot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rookie detectives James Gordon and Jessica Gordon and their partner Harvey Bullock are assigned to the case of the murders of Thomas and Martha Wayne, witnessed by petty street criminal Selina Kyle. Their investigation leads them to a parolee named Mario Pepper, whom Bullock kills in Jessica's defense. They discover that Pepper had been framed, leading them to mobster Fish Mooney, an associate of Carmine Falcone, an organized crime boss. Fish and Jessica have a long standing hatred for the other one. Mooney has them captured, but Falcone spares them upon his arrival, revealing that he intended to end the case so that the people of Gotham could feel safe, facilitating his illegal activities. In exchange, Falcone orders Jessica to kill Oswald Cobblepot, a low-level member of Mooney's gang and informant for Gotham Major Crimes Unit (MCU) investigators Renee Montoya and Crispus Allen. Jessica fakes Cobblepot's death, and tells him never to return to Gotham. Gordon promises the Waynes' son, Bruce, and his butler, Alfred Pennyworth, to find the real killer. Cobblepot kills a fisher. Selina is seen watching the Wayne Manor. Meanwhile, Montoya threatens Barbara, Gordon's fiancee, to tell him about Barbara's unknown past.

~1 year later~

Outside Gotham City at dusk. We’re ten stories above the street, perched on the edge of an old office building. A stone gargoyle gazes blindly at a majestic mountain range of Gothic stone spires and sleek glass towers under a darkening blue sky, bathed in the golden light of the setting sun. Selina Kyle, 14, an elfin girl dressed in street Goth style — the future Catwoman — appears alongside the gargoyle and scans the streets below, a hunter searching for prey. Without any hesitation, she launches herself from the edge of the roof onto a fire escape one floor below and using drainpipes, window ledges, and light fixtures descends to street level with amazing nerve and agility.

Outside the theater district street of Gotham. Imagine New York’s City Times Square in the 1970s and then turn the dial to eleven — squalid but sexy, dangerous but glamorous.

Colorful Gothamites and gawking tourists watch two gang members brawling violently in the middle of the road. One gangster wears crude home made body armor and wields a machete, the other wears a garish zoot suit and is armed with a hammer.

Nobody notices Selina slide from a store awning onto the sidewalk. An out of town conventioneer (male, 30’s) is watching the brawl. Selina brushes past him and a split second later he clutches at his pockets and spins around.

“Hey!” The conventioneer calls.

Selina runs, wallet in hand, pursued by the Conventioneer.

Outside the streets of the theater district of Gotham at dusk. Selina leads the Conventioneer on a pell mell tour of the glamorous, brutal, and intensely vivid city. Plunging canyons and soaring spires; neon signs and HD screens selling sex, violence, and money on streets teeming with raucous humanity. It’s colorful and loud, grotesque and beautiful.

Amid the visual clamor we see a giant billboard announcing the Wayne Foundation’s redevelopment of the Arkham district and the boards of a newspaper stand screaming ‘CRIME WAVE OF THE CENTURY!’

Selina grabs an apple and a carton of milk from the storefront and darts down an alley. The Conventioneer runs right past.

Moments later, outside in an alleyway of the Gotham theater district at night. Relaxing, Selina crouches behind a dumpster halfway down the alley. She pours some of the milk into a makeshift saucer, to share with the big calico alley-cat that soon joins her. They exchange meowing greetings. Selina munches on the apple and examines the wallet she stole. Pocketing the cash and credit cards, she slots the wallet through the grating of an old air vent in the wall.

Hearing voices and laughter, Selina and the cat climb swiftly up from the street into hiding in the shadows of a first-story fire escape. Thomas, Martha, and Bruce Wayne walk down the alley. The family is well-dressed in an old fashioned way. They’re laughing at something Thomas has just said.

“Oh, come one, Tom, it wasn’t that bad.” Martha says.

“Childish drivel. Movies these days, I don’t know.” Thomas replies.  
“Well I thought the acting was fine and the music was lovely. How about you, Bruce?” Martha asks her son.

“Sorry, Mom, I agree with Dad. It was kinda lame.” Bruce says.

Thomas smiles and ruffles his son’s hair.

“There’s no such word as kinda.” Thomas replies.

“You two, so judgmental. Just once I’d like—” Martha says lightly before she abruptly stops.

She stops because a big tall masked man with a gun appears in front of them.

“What’s up folks. Gimme your money.” The masked man demands.

Thomas and Martha remain very calm. Bruce is terrified.

“No problem.” Thomas replies. He hands the masked man his wallet.

“The necklace.” The masked man orders.

“Oh, but—” Martha starts to protest but is cut off by her husband.

“—Give it to him, Martha.” Thomas says.

Martha unclasps the necklace and gives it to the masked man. Then, without warning, the masked man shoots Thomas and Martha in the chest one after the other. They fall down.

The masked man looks at Bruce long and hard. Bruce meets his gaze. The masked man puts the gun to the boy’s forehead and considers shooting him, but then lowers the gun and walks calmly away.

Frozen in horror, Bruce watches his mother and father trying to speak gasping for their last breaths in a spreading pool of blood.

“Mom? Dad?” Bruce asks.

On a fifth-story fire escape, Selina Kyle — her expression inscrutable — watches Bruce Wayne fall to his knees and let out an unearthly wail.

Outside a low rent residential street at night. Closeup on James Gordon, 26, tough but open and sincere; an old school air of decency and honor and quiet authority. He’s walking down the middle of the street, hands raised in placation. He wears a nice simple suit and tie and holds up a silver detective’s badge.

He approaches a huge angry biker, holding a butcher’s knife to the throat of a terrified young woman. A lover’s quarrel gone very wrong.

“Sir, I’m Detective James Gordon, Gotham PD. Can we talk?” Gordon says.

The biker looks at Gordon wild-eyed, high. Gordon keeps moving slowly but steadily toward the man and his hostage.

Half a block away, Harvey Bullock and Jessica Gordon run huffing and puffing to the scene, gun drawn. Gordon is close now.

“I’ll kill her, I swear!” The angry biker yells.

“I can see you’re very angry and I respect that. But please listen to me. Violence is not the answer—” Gordon replies.

The biker points the knife at Gordon, who grabs and twists it from the biker’s grip and elbows him in the face. They exchange a flurry of vicious blows before Gordon puts the biker down on his hands and knees. As Gordon takes out his cuffs, Jessica comes running up and kicks the biker as he starts trying to get up knocking him down again. Gordon cuffs the prone man while Bullock puts his hands on his knees, catching his breath.

“Are you okay, ma’am?” Gordon asks.

The woman nods speechless.

Inside the GCP Headquarters at night. A vast escheresque cavern, teeming with life. Stylish hoodlums, raucous teenage gangsters, garish hookers, and raving lunatics are pushed and prodded and wrestled through the system by a beleaguered cohort of cops. Both Gordons and Bullock take the biker to the booking desk sergeant.

“Next time soldier, don’t mess around. Just drill the sonofabitch.” Bullock says and Jessica lightly snickers at the two.

“I thought about that. But I figured I could avoid bloodshed.” Gordon replies.

“Dumb rookie mistake. He could have killed you. You’re a homicide detective, not a goddamn hero.” Bullock replies.

“I don’t think that—” Gordon says but is cut off.

“—You been on the job two weeks. You don’t get to think yet. Yo, Sarge, process this creep wouldya. A and B, resisting.” Bullock replies.

“Oh hey Bullock, good timing. You’re up. Double homicide in the Theater District.” The sergeant says.

“Gimme a break. Shift’s nearly over.” Bullock replies.

“Yeah, nearly. You’re up.” The sergeant replies.

Bullock curses under his breath, causing Jessica to laugh at his actions. Gordon is good to go.

Outside the Theater District Alleyway in Gotham. A GCPD Homicide squad car pulls to the curb, both Gordons and Bullock inside.

Gordon’s POV - The alley is taped off and bathed in the eerie glow of temporary lights set up by the first responders. The three detectives get out of the car and head down the alleyway, ducking under the tape.

Bullock nods to Sergeant Tannenbaum, standing guard over the bodies of the Waynes. Sheets have been placed over them. The cop’s tone is casual but professional. Gordon is galvanized and alert. Familiar with war, murder scenes are not shocking but horribly fascinating.

“The legendary Harvey Bullock. No rest for the wicked, eh?” Tannenbaum greets.

“Tannenbaum, looking crisp. These are my partners, James and Jessica Gordon. What we got?” Bullock returns the greeting.

Tannenbaum and the Gordons exchange nods.

“Just got here myself. Male and a female, gunshot wounds. Their kid saw the whole thing. Poor little bastard hasn’t spoke a word yet.” Tannenbaum says.

The sergeant points out Bruce Wayne, sitting on a doorstep, wrapped in a police department blanket his face a mask of tragedy. A policewoman stands near, feeling helpless. Bruce and Gordon’s eyes meet for a second and Gordon feels his fathomless pain. As if drawn by a magnet, he goes to the boy and sits down alongside him. They sit in silence.

Bullock and Jessica go to the bodies and he lifts the sheet to look at the faces. He immediately recognizes the Waynes and curses under his breath. He puts the sheet back over the bodies and takes Tannenbaum aside for a quiet word.

“Listen T, you didn’t see me okay?” Bullock says.

“I see you right in front of me. What’s your problem? Who are they?” Tannenbaum asks.

“That’s Thomas and Martha Wayne.” Bullock replies.

“Oh hell. For real?” Tannenbaum asks alarmed.

“Yeah. I don’t that kind of hassle. Call Major Crimes. They’d love to have this.” Bullock replies.

“But they’re not here. You are here and your partner’s talking to the witness. That makes it your case.” Tannenbaum responds.

Bullock sighs, knowing Tannenbaum is right, and won’t budge.

On Gordon and Bruce. Still silent until finally Gordon breaks the ice.

“My name’s James Gordon. I’m a detective. What’s your name?” Gordon says. When he gets no response he continues, “It’s okay. You don’t have to talk.”

After a beat Bruce says, “Bruce. My name’s Bruce Wayne.”

“Bruce. That’s a good strong name. Can you tell me what happened?” Gordon asks the young boy.

Bruce can’t speak. When he tries, he starts to cry instead.

“When I was a little younger than you a drunk driver ran into our car. Killed my dad. I was right next to him.” Gordon says, grabbing Bruce’s attention. “I wasn’t hurt badly, but it took a while to get me out of the wreck. A policeman held my hand. He knew how frightened I was and he told me, he promised me, however dark and scary the world might be at this moment, there will be light. And he was right. There will be light, Bruce. There will.”

Bruce looks in Gordon’s eyes and sees strength and empathy.

“We, we just got out of the movies. We were walking through the alley to catch an uptown cab and a man came out of the shadows. He was tall and big, with a black mask and a hat and gloves and he had a gun. A revolver. His shoes were shiny. He said give me your money and he took my dad’s wallet and my mom’s necklace and then he shot them. For no reason. And then he pointed the gun at me, but he didn’t shoot. He walked away.” Bruce recounts, then pauses. After a beat he goes on, “I could have grabbed the gun. But I didn’t. I didn’t do anything.”

“You did the right thing. You’re alive.” Gordon replies.

“No. I should have done something. I was too scared.” Bruce replies.

“There was nothing you could do to stop what happened. But there is something you can do now. Now you can be strong. Grief can make you strong. Be strong and one day maybe you can stop this from happening to somebody else.” Gordon continues.

Bruce nods. Gordon has no idea how deep his words sink in.

“I promise you, Bruce, I’ll do whatever it takes to find the man who did this.” Gordon promises.

A title card slams into frame — ‘GOTHAM’

Still in the theater district avenue, a late night crowd of party-goers and street people watch Gordon and Alfred Pennyworth escorts Bruce Wayne to a big black limo, idling at the curb. Pennyworth helps the kid into the backseat and closes the door.

“We’ll be in touch soon. We’re going to catch this guy Mr. Pennyworth.” Gordon says.

“Call me Alfred. New boy are you?” Alfred inquires.

“You could say.” Gordon replies.

Alfred studies him skeptically. “Good luck mate.” He replies.

Alfred gets behind the wheel of the limo. Bruce and Gordon exchange a last look through the window as the car pulls away. Bullock walks past Gordon with grumpy body language, Jessica following after him.

“Forensics have got the scene. Let’s go get coffee.” Bullock says.

He and Jessica head for a diner down the block. Gordon follows reluctantly.

Inside the diner Bullock, Jessica, and Gordon enter the near empty diner. The waitress sees Bullock coming and has a cup of coffee poured by the time he and the Gordons sit at the counter.

Simmering, Bullock drinks coffee and Maalox and a flask of whiskey alternately. Jessica stealthily and sneakily pours some vodka into her coffee, drinking the beverage.

“Shouldn’t we be there when they move the victims?” Gordon asks.

“Why? Listen to me hot-shot, in the future, don’t start talking to witnesses until I say so.” Bullock replies.

“And I thought—” Gordon begins but is once again cut off.

“—There you go again. You think you’re a real detective already, but you’re not. You got a badge, that’s all. And you just caught us a gigantic flaming ball of crap.” Bullock interrupts.

“How so?” Gordon inquires.

“You never heard of Thomas and Martha Wayne?” Bullock asks.

“Sure. The Wayne Foundation.” Gordon replies.

“They’re two of the richest, most powerful people in Gotham. Wayne industries runs half the city. They own the whole Arkham development zone. They’re kingmakers at City Hall. These murders are going to turn the city upside down. You can’t even begin to imagine the pressure if we don’t close the case quick.” Jessica chimes in, causing both males to look at her strangely. “What? I like to read and I happen to be very observant. Unlike some people.”

“So let’s close it quick.” Gordon says looking at the others.

“Yeah right. This is a random street robbery Holmes. Perp could be anyone of ten thousand mopes.” Bullock responds.

Gordon is a little surprised by Bullock’s defeatism. He has a soldier’s way of getting to the bottom line.

“So it’s a tough case, but we took the call. It’s our case.” Gordon replies.

“It is now. Ah crap.” Bullock responds. The last in reaction to Renee Montoya and Crispus Allen entering the diner.

“Up late, girls?” Bullock asks.

“Hi, Harvey.” Allen greets.

“Montoya and Allen. Major Crimes Unit. My new partners, Jessica and Jim Gordon.” Bullock says to both Gordons.

“Good to meet you.” Gordon says. Jessica stays silent until she gets a small nudge by her father in the rib. She mumbles out a ‘hey’ then goes back to drinking her vodka-coffee mixture.

Allen nods. Montoya just studies him coldly.

“You’re on the Waynes, huh? Terrible thing. Any leads?” Montoya asks.

“We just got started.” Jessica bites out.

“Tough case.” Montoya replies.

After an awkward beat, someone breaks the silence.  
“I’ll be straight. You wants us to take it off your hands?” Allen inquires.

Gordon is shocked and so is Jessica, just a tiny bit.

“What? No way—” Gordon begins.

“Not a chance!” Jessica impulsively says.

“—Hold on, rook.” Bullock says to Gordon. Then to Allen he asks, “Why’d you want it? You got a lead?”

“Naw. You know we need the press action. MCU’s new guy on the block. We got to get our name out there. This case is just the ticket.” Allen explains.

Gordon wants to speak, but Bullock holds up a finger to shoosh him.

“I don’t know…” Bullock feigns reluctance.

“Come on, Bullock. You don’e want this case. Do the right thing.” Montoya says.

The words touch a nerve in Bullock and he changes his mind.

“The right thing? The hell you get the nerve to say that to me? The right thing. I do the right thing every damn day. Kiss my ass.” Bullock replies.

“Don’t be that way, brother. We’re trying to be collegial here. We can help each other out.” Allen responds.

Bullock’s anger overrides his better judgement.

“For a moment there, I almost gave it to you. But you can’t help it, huh? You got to be disrespectful. I’ll give this case to Satan before I give it to you jackasses.” Bullock replies, mostly to Montoya.

Allen raises his hands in amiable surrender.

“Okay, Harvey. Stay cool. Good luck.” He says.

Montoya gave Harvey and Gordon a cold stare, but Jessica a small smile as she and Allen exit. Gordon is puzzled by the heavy tension. Off his sidelong glance to Bullock.

Inside a GCPD Homicide squad car in motion during the day. Jim is driving, Bullock alongside him still seething, and Jessica in the backseat.

“Why all the friction with the Major Crimes Unit? We’re on the same side.” Gordon asks.

“Exactly. We’re rivals. And they’re a buncha self righteous do gooding skell huggers. Badmouthing us all the time we bend the law, we’re cowboys, blah blah blah.” Bullock responds.

“Why do you say that?” Gordon inquires.

“Because they want a piece of our pie, of course. Like they’re such freaking angels? Please.” Bullock replies. Then yells at another driver, “What are you blind?! Move!”  
Off Gordon, not quite satisfied with that reply.

In Captain Essen’s office at GCPD HQ, close on a TV screen, Mayor Aubrey James is teary-eyed with emotion.

“Today we have lost two of Gotham’s finest people. I grieve not just as Mayor of this great city of ours. I have lost two close personal friends. Make no doubt, our Police Department will catch the punk that did this. But at moments like this it can seem like we’re losing the war on crime. My fellow citizens, we can’t and we won’t let the killers and the robbers and the rapists and the thugs win. Not on my watch. I swear to you—” Mayor James says.

Captain Sarah Essen switches off the TV then turns to Bullock, Jessica, and Gordon.

“Poor bastard. First a crime wave and now this. At city hall, the Waynes were like mom and dad, they kept a fractious family together. Now they’re gone the children are gonna start squabbling. It’s bad news for Gotham. Bad news for us. Everybody in town is going to be on us like wet paint until we close this thing. Drop everything else. Take all the people and resources you need. Just close.” Captain Essen says.

“Yes, boss.” Bullock replies. Then to Gordon he says, “I’ll be right with you, Jim.”

Gordon takes the hint, gets Jessica, and they exit.

Gordon’s POV from outside the glass walls of the Captain’s office: Bullock gestures vehemently, baldly pointing to Gordon and shaking his head. Gordon knows what he’s saying. We go back inside her office.

“The answer is no. Give him a chance. It’s only been two weeks.” Captain Essen says.

“Come on, Cap. Give me anyone, give me Thumbs Osgood even. This kid knows nothing.” Bullock replies.

“That’s why they call ‘em rookies. He was fast tracked for good reasons. He’s smart as hell, his father was a revered District Attorney. He’s a college football star, war hero, exemplary beat cop.” Captain Essen defends.

“—For two years. In the suburbs. I don’t care who his daddy was, I don’t care he’s a war hero. I do not need an ignorant fearless gang ho boy scout in my life. Have a heart, Cap.” Bullock argues.

“You know I have no heart. He’s a good man and he’s here to stay. He just needs to learn from your experience. Go do your job please.” Captain Essen says with a smile.

Bullock takes a beat, shrugs, then exits.

In the bullpen of GCPD HQ, Bullock’s eyes meet Gordon’s seated at his desk. Bullock has the grace to look and feel just a tad bit guilty.

“Okay kid, let’s go roust some muggers.” Bullock says.

As the three walk out together, Jessica decides to speak up.

“She said you got to keep him, huh?” She asks with an amused look on her face.

Bullock looks at her sideways. “Yeah. She did.” He replies to Jessica. Then to Gordon he says, “Do me a favor, you got juice, ask for a transfer.”

“No can do. I promised the kid. I have to stay on this case.” Gordon replies.

Bullock thinks this is a greenhorn behavior of the worst kind.

“You promised…Ooof. No offense, you’re a good guy Jimmy. But this is not a job for good guys. This is not a city for good guys. You understand?” Bullock says.

“Not really.” Gordon responds.

“There’s your problem right there.” Bullock replies.

“I’m sorry you’re not happy with my dad. But he needs this job. He like this job. He wants to learn from the best. And you’re the best detective on this squad. By reputation anyhow.” Jessica says, a smirk making its way onto her face.

“What’s that anyhow?” Bullock asks.

“Oh you’re way more lackadaisical than I expected. You wouldn’t last ten minutes in the military.” Jessica answers.

Bullock laughs.

“Lackadaisical. That’s a good word. You got stones [Jessie or girl], I’ll give you that.” Bullock replies.

On the streets of Gotham forty-eight hours pass as both Gordons and Bullock work the streets, alleys, and tenements of Gotham in all it’s seedy glory. Walking, running, driving, knocking on doors, questioning a gallery of Gotham low-life. Everyone shakes their head. Nope. Nope. Nope.

In the bullpen with the homicide squad at GCP HQ. Edward Nygma, the resident forensics expert holds a shiny bullet between his fingers, showing it to the two Gordons and Bullock, weary frustrated and frowsty.

“Guess what this is?” Nygma says.

“Just tell us Ed. If I want riddles, I’ll read the funny pages.” Bullock replies impatiently. Jessica glares over at him from her seat.

“.45 Caliber three hundred grain cupronickel wadcutter. Came out of Thomas Wayne’s chest.” Nygma replies.

“That’s a six dollar bullet.” Gordon says.

“Yuh huh. What kind…” Nygma says. He is about to ask another riddle and struggles with himself to state the facts, as a stutterer might struggle to speak.

“Wh-It’s from a big revolver that is not in our database. No prints either.” Nygma continues.

“What else you got?” Bullock inquires.

“What’s nowhere but everywhere except where something is?” Nygma asks.

Bullock rolls his eyes.

“Nothing.” Jessica answers.

“You’re quick.” Nygma replies. Jessica smiles at him.

“And you’re a pain in the ass Nygma.” Bullock says to Ed, making Jessica to glare daggers at him. To Gordon and Jessica he says, “Let’s go.”

Bullock, Jessica, and Gordon head for the street. Nygma looks miffed.

“I’m thinking, maybe we do have something.” Gordon says.

“Thinking again, huh?” Bullock replies.

“Our man wears shiny shoes and uses high end ammo and nobody on the street knows who he is. So maybe he’s not from the street.” Gordon continues.

“Oh, like, a debonair playboy robber? Does it for kicks?” Bullock asks.

“Who would pretend to be a street robber? Either a professional contract killer or someone with a personal grudge against the Waynes.” Jessica comments.

“How did this professional killer know the Waynes would come down that alley?” Bullock inquires.

“Good question. I don’t know.” Gordon and Jessica reply in unison.

“This is a big city, rook. Shiny shoes and fancy bullets don’t mean diddly.” Bullock replies.

“Where are we going?” Gordon asks.

“Captain Essen told me we don’t get a break in the first 48, it’s time go see Fish Mooney.” Bullock says and Jessica does not seemed pleased.

“Fish Mooney? The Gangster? Works for Carmine Falcone?” Gordon asks.

“Her. Theater district’s her turf. Anything happens there, she hears about it.” Bullock replies.

Outside Mooney’s Golden Age night club, it’s raining a little. The club is a sumptuous high-end joint. Gordon, Jessica, and Bullock walk up to the front entrance.

“Why didn’t we go to her first?” Gordon asks.

“Eh, she’s a last resort. Kind rough-edged.” Bullock replies.

“That’s an understatement.” Jessica mumbles and Jim looks at her questioningly.

Inside Mooney’s Golden Age night club. A restaurant night club with a 1920’s High Society theme. Empty except for a pair of dancers sexlessly rehearsing a sexy number on stage. Gordon, Jessica, and Bullock show their badges to a waiter who nods respectfully and glides away.  
As the waiter exits through a back door, we hear outside the sound of man yelling in fear and pain. The sound cuts off as the door closes. Gordon looks to Bullock who shrugs.

Outside in the back courtyard of the Golden Age night club. Stone paving, blank brick walls. Rain falling through fluorescent light.

Fish Mooney is in a slinky evening dress and jewels, wielding a well-used aluminum little league baseball bat. She talks gently to a whimpering, badly beaten fat man — Raoul — on his knees in front of her.

One of Mooney’s entourage, an odd-looking young man named Oswald Cobblepot holds an umbrella over Mooney to shield her from the rain. He’s clearly the lowest rank in this assembly. Second in command Butch Gilzean and two thuggish henchmen watch attentively. All Mooney’s henchmen wear similar black suits and white shirts.

The waiter comes out of the club and waits to be noticed.

“Here’s the thing, sugar bunny. I still care for you deeply. But I feel like you don’t care for me anymore.” Mooney says to Raoul.

Raoul mumbles incoherently.

“I can’t hear you.” Mooney says.

“I care fuh fuh for you.” Raoul replies.

“Then where’s my goddamn money?” Mooney asks.

She smacks Raoul with the bat. Oswald is entranced by the man’s pain and so is late following her with the umbrella. Mooney smacks him in the back of the head. Oswald conceals a nasty scowl.

“Hello?” Mooney she says to Oswald.

“Sorry.” Oswald replies.

“If my hair goes frizzy, you will be.” She says to him. Turning to the waiter she asks, “What is it, sweety?” She smiles at him politely.

“Ma’am Detective Bullock’s here to see you.” The waiter says.

Mooney likes Bullock. She hands the bat to Gilzean.

“Keep him warm.” Mooney orders.

Mooney heads indoors. Oswald covers her with the umbrella to the door, but stays outside. Butch looks at the two bored henchmen and then turns to Oswald.

“Oswald, you want a turn?” Gilzean asks.

“May I?” Oswald asks.

Gilzean tosses the bat to Oswald, who is thrilled.

“Thank you Mister Gilzean.” Oswald says.

Oswald gives Raoul a tentative smack. Smiles slyly. Does it again, harder. He likes this.

Back in the Golden Age night club. Mooney enters glowing, as if she’s just finished a game of tennis. While the door’s open, the sound of Raoul howling can again be heard. Bullock pays no mind. Jessica wants to know who’s getting beaten up this time. Gordon is curious.

Mooney and Bullock embrace like old friends.

“Harvey, you bad man. Where have you been so long? Who’s your friend?” Mooney asks looking over at Jim. She still hasn’t noticed Jessica yet.

“Detective James Gordon, ma’am.” Gordon replies.

“New boy.” Bullock says.

“James. Aren’t you a cool glass of milk.” Mooney shamelessly flirts with him. Jessica has to hold back from throwing up right then and there.

“Ma’am, was that screaming we heard back there?” Gordon asks.

“Yes. My boys are watching a scary movie.” Mooney lies. Jessica lets out a laugh, causing Mooney’s attention to turn to the young female.

“Nice to see you’re still up to your old tricks, Fish.” Jessica says with contempt.

“Likewise, Little Gordon.” Mooney replies with the same amount of contempt.

Jim looks at Jessica, then at Harvey with a confused look on his face. Harvey shoots him a look that tells him to drop it.

“Really?” Gordon asks Mooney.

“No, I’m messing with you. One of my staff has been stealing from me. We’re beating his punk ass.” Mooney answers.

“Oh.” Gordon replies, surprised by her candor.

“Relax junior. Fish gets some leeway. Her staff are rough characters, need firm handling.” Bullock says.

Gordon frowns, as he doesn’t like the notion of leeway.

“So this isn’t a social visit then?” Mooney asks.

“Do you really think that I would be here if it was?” Jessica asks her.

Fish and Jessica glare at each other for a moment, until Bullock decides to speak.

“The brass told me to come talk to you. About the Wayne murders.” Bullock says to the woman.

“Hmmm. Terrible thing.” Mooney replies.  
“We need your help. We need a name.” Bullock replies.

“I can ask around.” Mooney responds. Jessica rolls her eyes at Fish.

Jessica decides to get up and go see what the exciting action is outside, but turns around to look at Harvey for permission. He gives Fish a side glance and she nods at him. Then Jessica skips out the door, where more screaming is heard until the door closes again.

Gordon is still gazing anxiously at the door where his daughter just exited.

“Tell you what, Jim. If you’re worried, go on back there and see if anybody wants to press charges. That okay with you, Fish?” Bullock asks.

“Sure. Knock yourself out kid.” Mooney replies.

Gordon shrugs okay. He heads to the back of the club. Bullock and Mooney continue talking, but we follow Gordon as he exits through the service door.

In the hallway of the Golden Age night club, Gordon follows the sound of a beating.

Outside in the courtyard of the Golden Age night club. Jessica is delightedly dancing around, cackling, the little league bat in her hand beating Raoul. She’s watched by Gilzean and the two other henchmen, very amused.

“Atta girl.” Gilzean says.

“Go Crazy Jay!” One henchman calls out.

Jessica stops abruptly and glares at the henchman. “Don’t ever call me that again. Because the next time you do, I’ll break your kneecaps. Understand?” She says.

“Ooo. Scary.” The henchman says unimpressed.

Jessica snarls, grips the bat tightly in her hands, walks over to the henchman, and swings violently at his kneecaps. The sound of broken kneecaps can be heard and she has a satisfied smile on her face. Jessica pauses guiltily when Gordon appears.

“Hi. How’s everyone doing?” Gordon asks.

“Who are you?” Gilzean asks him.

“Detective James Gordon, GCPD. My father.” Jessica answers for him.

“Oh. Come with Harvey, huh? Good to know ya, James. I’m Butch Gilzean.” Gilzean says.

“Jess, drop the bat.” Gordon says to his daughter.

Jessica sighs and rolls her eyes at her dad. “Dad, it’s fine. I was just examining it for any prints.”

Jessica gently sets the bat on the ground.

“Jessica and Raoul were just having fun, right guys?” Gilzean says.

In a heap on the floor, Raoul nods and tries to smile.

“All in fun.” Jessica confirms.

“Th…thas’ righ. No problem. Fun.” Raoul manages to say.

“So, you’re a new guy, huh? How you liking Gotham?” Gilzean asks.

“Well enough.” Gordon replies.

Stymied and a little embarrassed, Gordon gives Gilzean a hard look and walks back inside. Jessica throws a smile Butch’s way and tosses him the bat, but not before spitting on the henchman she broke the kneecaps of.

“Have a nice time trying to get up now.” Jessica says, laughing. She then quickly follows her father back inside the nightclub.

Back inside the Golden Age night club. Gordon and Jessica return to the table where Bullock and Mooney are deep in quiet conversation. They stop talking and smile at Gordon as he approaches.

“All good?” Bullock inquires.

Gordon just nods. Bullock stands up to leave.

“It was good to see you Fish. Hope to hear from you soon.” Bullock says to Mooney.

“You never know.” Mooney replies.

They kiss goodbye on the mouth.

“See ya around Fish. Tell Butch I said thanks for me, will ya?” Jessica asks, sincerely for the first time.

Caught off guard, Fish eyes Jessica skeptically. When she sees that she’s being sincere she says, “Of course, Little Gordon.”

The two look at each other for a moment, then silently nod their heads at each other. Jessica leaves the night club soon after.

In a homicide squad car, moving, Bullock is at the wheel with Gordon alongside him and Jessica in the back seat.

“How much leeway does Mooney get exactly?” Gordon asks.

“How long is a piece of string?” Bullock asks testily.

“The law isn’t made of string.” Gordon replies.

“You’re damn right. The law is us.” Bullock replies.

“It’s more than us.” Gordon responds.

“You see anybody else out here?” Bullock asks.  
Off Gordon, troubled.

Inside a penthouse apartment at night. A spectacular view of Gotham through wall to wall picture windows. A symphony of stone, steel and glass.

We find Gordon looking out at this view, deep in thought.

Barbara Kean enters from her bedroom looking gorgeous in a cocktail dress and she greets Gordon with a kiss and a radiant smile. She has the gift and burden of luminous grace. All her life, she’s been coveted, pursued. For her, Gordon is a protector — honest and strong.

“Wow.” Gordon says.

“And look at you in your excellent suit. I am so happy you don’t have to wear that silly uniform anymore.” Barbara replies.

“You told me it looked good.” Gordon replies.

“I lied, baby. Drink before we go?” Barbara asks.

“Barbara, I’m beat. Do we really have to go to this thing?” Gordon asks.

“No, of course not. What bliss. You know how I looove bailing.” Barbara replies.

She kicks off her heels. Gordon slumps onto a sofa. Barbara looks at him with fond concern.

Barbara curls up with him on the sofa.

“Talk to me.” Barbara says.

“We’re getting nowhere on the Wayne case. I made a promise to Bruce Wayne and I can’t deliver on it. Now I feel like a fraud.” Gordon replies.

“But you’re not.” Barbara says.

“I was nine when we left Gotham after my dad died and I really didn’t want to go. I was a city boy. But my mom needed to be near her parents upstate, so you know…The country was okay. But Gotham, in my mind, it became this magical scary mysterious place where my family was happy and my father did heroic things. I always knew I’d come back here and work for the law, like my father did. I know this is my place. But now I’m here, I feel like I’m playing a game with rules that everyone knows but me. I’m out of my depth.” Gordon replies.

Familiar with Gordon’s hardness on himself, she gives him a consoling kiss.

“Jim, you are the cleverest, bravest, goodest man in Gotham. I very much doubt you are out of your depth. Even if you are, you know how to swim don’t you?” Barbara says blithely.

“Yes I do.” Gordon replies with a smile.

“So alright then. You don’t have to rid the city of crime on your own all at once today. You can swim around a little at first and get your bearings. And I bet you catch someone for the Wayne murders soon. I can feel it. Are you hungry?” Barbara asks.

Gordon nods, cheering up. Barbara could make a stone smile.  
In the kitchen of Barbara’s apartment, Barbara cooks an Italian dinner and James helps.

“Pass the radicchio, would you?” Barbara asks.

“The who?” Gordon inquires, confused.

Barbara gets it herself and Jessica’s laughter can be heard as she enters the kitchen.

“Please tell me that’s Italian food.” Jessica says smelling the nice aroma.

Barbara and Jim both turn to look at her as she enters. Barbara gives her a warm motherly smile.

“Good job. You must have a good sense of smell.” Barbara says as Jessica sits down at a chair.

“I think you mean keen sense of smell.” Jessica replies. Both girls laugh at the joke.

“When I’m Mrs. Gordon I’m going to teach you how to cook.” Barbara says to Jim.

“I know how to cook.” Jim defends.

“Dad, applying heat to things until they’re soft is not cooking.” Jessica teases.

“That’s most of it.” Jim replies with a smile. Then to Barbara he asks, “You figured we would live here?”

“Why not? It’s free. Dad— My father practically said it’s mine, really.” Barbara says.

Jessica knew where the conversation was headed and she decides to silently grab a garlic breadstick and head out to the balcony to get some fresh air.

“Yeah, but it’s his. I figured we’d live somewhere we can afford on the wages of a cop and an art gallery owner.” Gordon replies.

“But that’ll be somewhere pokey and sad, won’t it? Why not stay here where it’s nice? Isn’t it nice here?” Barbara asks.

“Yes it is…” Gordon replies.

“Well then…” Barbara replies.

They kiss, and after a while, start to undress each other. The food on the stove is left to cook away unattended.

Outside on the balcony, Jessica is breathing in the cool night air when her phone buzzes in her pocket. When she pulls it out to see the caller ID, she notices that it is an unknown caller. Against her better judgement, she answers it and to her surprise hears Fish’s voice on the other line.

“What the hell have you done?!” Fish exclaims angrily through the line.

“What the hell are you talking about?” Jessica inquires, confused.

“Don’t play dumb with me, Little Gordon. My henchman.” Fish replies. 

“Oh are you talking about the one with the broken kneecaps? Yeah, see he needed to be taught a lesson. One that he simply wouldn’t get unless I gave him the proper demonstration.” Jessica replies, realization finally dawning on her.

“Tell Harvey that I’m done doing favors for him after this.” Fish says.

“Fine. It’s not like we needed your help in the first place.” Jessica replies.

“Screw you, Little Gordon.” Fish replies.

“No. Screw you, Fish. I’m tired of always having to pretend to be nice to you for Harvey’s sake. So I’m actually glad that you don’t want to help us anymore because of me. Have a very pleasant evening.” Jessica replies, anger finally bursting.

“You’ll regret this. Because when I get my hands on you, I’ll make sure you die a slow tortuous death. Sleep on that, Little Gordon.” Fish replies, her anger finally exploding as well.

Inside the Golden Age night club, Fish angrily hangs up her phone. She tightly grips it in her hand, then throws it at the wall screaming in anger.

Back inside Barbara’s apartment, later that night, Chinese food is on the coffee table. Gordon and Barbara are entwined asleep on the sofa. Gordon’s phone buzzes. He wakes and finds the phone.

In a sleazy bar in Gotham, a dark underground dive. In a booth, blanked by hookers and a drug dealer, Bullock is on his mobile phone.

“Got a lead. Meet me at Fourth and Grundy.” Bullock says.

“On my way.” Gordon replies.

Bullock drains a glass of whiskey and slams it down. Jessica, sitting at the bar, drains a glass of vodka and slams it down on the counter. The bartender quickly refills her glass.

Gordon tiptoes out, leaving Barbara sleeping peacefully.

Outside Fourth and Grundy in Gotham, a street of tenement apartments. Gordon waits on the deserted street corner. Bullock drives up, parks, and gets out of his car, a little unsteady. Soon followed by Jessica who falls out of the vehicle as she opens the car door. Bullock goes over and helps her up. She sends him a smile and shoots Jim an ‘I’m okay, really’ look.

“You okay?” Gordon asks Bullock.

“Couple drinks. I’ll be fine.” Bullock replies.

“Bullock, come on. If you’re drunk you can’t—” Gordon says but is only cut off.

“—Hey. You don’t tell me what I can or can’t do. We clear on that?” Bullock replies.

“Clear.” Gordon replies.

There’s a beat of silence where no one says anything and it’s almost unbearable until Bullock decides to put an end to the quietness.

“Fish Mooney heard from one of her fences — a guy was trying to sell him an antique four strand pearl necklace with gold settings.” Bullock says. At the mention of Fish’s name, Jessica immediately grows pale and her blood runs cold.

“Like Martha Wayne was wearing.” Gordon replies.

“Name of the guy is Mario Pepper…” Jessica says.

In the tenement stairwell. Gordon, Jessica, and Bullock climb the decrepit dimly lit stairs and take up positions on either side of an apartment door.

“…Career street thug. Long sheet for robbery, assault, rape, drug dealing, extortion.” Jessica’s voice says via a voice over.

Gordon knocks firmly. There’s no reply. He knocks again. The door cracks open and a little girl — Ivy — appears. A chain bolt holds the door.

“Hi. What’s your name?” Jessica asks sweetly.

“Ivy.” Ivy replies.

“Ivy, is there a grown-up home that we can talk to?” Jessica asks.

“Momma’s asleep.” Ivy replies.

“Just Momma? Is Daddy home?” Jessica inquires.

“Yeah. But you don’t want to talk to Daddy.” Ivy replies.

“Why’s that, Ivy?” Jessica asks.

“He’s mean.” Ivy whispers.

Just then, thumping footsteps can be heard. Ivy scampers away and the door is off the chain and opened wide, revealing Mario Pepper as advertised — big and scary. He knows cops instantly.

“Mister Pepper? We need to talk.” Gordon says.

“I’ve done nothing.” Mario Pepper replies.

“Then it’ll be a pleasant conversation.” Jessica replies.

Inside Pepper’s apartment, the spartan front room is brightened by an array of thriving potted plants of various colorful kinds.

At a plain table, Pepper sits next to his wife Alice. She’s jittery and she has a black eyes. Gordon, Jessica, and Bullock sit opposite.

“Mario, where were you last Saturday night at around nine-thirty?” Jessica inquires.

“I was here at home with my family.” Mario Pepper answers.

“Th-that’s right. He was here.” Alice Pepper confirms, stuttering.

“Why are you so nervous, Alice?” Bullock inquires.

“Because you’re harassing us in the middle of the night.” Alice Pepper replies.

“What’s this about?” Mario Pepper asks.

“It’s about a pearl necklace. Four strands. Gold fittings. Does that sound familiar?” Bullock replies.

“No.” Mario Pepper replies.

“So you don’t mind if we take a look around the place?” Jessica inquires.

Both Peppers look worried at that.

“You need a warrant.” Mario Pepper replies.

“You’re a felon on parole. We just need reasonable cause.” Gordon replies.

“You got no reasonable cause.” Mario Pepper responds.

“Sure we do.” Jessica replies.

“I’m just trying to do the right thing. I’m just trying to feed my family. Why are you picking on me?” Mario Pepper comments.

With that, Pepper throws the table over on top of the three detectives and dashes from the room. Alice flings herself flailing and screaming at Gordon, Jessica, and Bullock — delaying them as they scramble up. Jessica extricates himself first and follows Pepper. In the back bedroom, Jessica enters as Pepper disappears up the fire escape. Jessica follows.

In the front room, Bullock and Gordon have to use violence to subdue and cuff Alice. Then Ivy comes charging in and attacks them with a kitchen knife.

Outside on the fire escape and rooftop, Jessica chases Pepper across the iconic rooftops of Gotham. The big man is an athlete and leaps with ease across a yawning gap between the buildings. Jessica follows with less ease and more bravery.

Jessica has her gun out, gets a clear line of sight on Pepper. “Stop or I’ll shoot!” She yells to him. When she sees that he won’t stop, she goes to shoot him but the bullet barely misses him as he moves too quickly.

But Pepper doesn’t stop and Jessica doesn’t shoot him. She keeps barely missing him.

Bullock and Gordon come up via the stairwell onto the rooftops. There’s no way they can make the jump made by Pepper and Jessica. They get further ahead while the others search for another way across the gap.

Scrambling to stop herself from falling off a steeply pitched roof, Jessica loses her gun, and continues the chase unarmed.  
Meanwhile, Bullock and Gordon lay the ladder across the gap and walk carefully across.

Jessica loses sight of Pepper and comes to a wide gap that Pepper could not possibly have jumped. Just as she realizes that Pepper must therefore be behind her, Pepper comes charging out of the shadows intending to push Jessica off the rooftop. Jessica dodges just in time. The two grapple on the edge of a sheer drop. The advantage swings back and forth.

Bullock and Gordon arrive on the scene to find Jessica hanging from a parapet with Pepper clinging desperately to her legs. In a few seconds, both of them will fall to certain deaths.

Bullock saves Jessica’s life by shooting Pepper. Pepper lets go of Jessica and falls a hundred feet to his death screaming all the way. Free of Pepper’s weight, Jessica scrambles to safety.

In Gotham City during the day, sunrise over the majestic city of Gotham.

Outside Fourth and Grundy, the street is swarming with cops and forensics techs. On the sidewalk, a medic treats a nasty gash on Jessica’s arm. Bullock is close by, talking quietly to a uniformed police captain. There’s an air of tension.

Inside Pepper’s apartment, there is a careful search by a team of specialist cops in gloves and protective clothing. In the bedroom, a spectacled cop pulls a gym bag from under the bed. Opens it to find a jiffy bag of white powder. Holding it up for a better look, the cop sees there’s something else in the bag. He opens the bag and pulls out Martha Wayne’s four strand pearl necklace.

“Yo, Sarge!” The spectacled cop calls.

Back outside Fourth and Grundy, the spectacled cop emerges from the tenement block. Holds up an evidence bag with the pearl necklace inside.

“We got him!” The spectacled cop says.

Bullock, Jessica, and Gordon exchange a look of profound relief. They laugh. Real partners for the first time.

In the bullpen at GCPD HQ. Gordon, Jessica, and Bullock enter to cheers and an irreverent standing ovation from their colleagues. Jessica and Jim can’t help smiling.

In Captain Essen’s office of the GCPD HQ, Essen smiles broadly at the trio.

“Well done guys. We needed this one.” Captain Essen says.

“I wish we could have taken him alive.” Jessica replies.

“Stuff happens. But when you speak to the media, that’s a great angle to play. You wish you could have taken him alive.” Captain Essen replies.

In Gotham City, close on a stack of newspapers hitting the floor of a newsstand. The screaming headline — HERO COPS DROP WAYNE KILLER! Beneath the headline are Weegee-style photos of Pepper’s corpse and the three GCPD detectives. Jessica and Jim look proud and happy.

This begins a montage of press photos: Heroes of the hour - Gordon, Jessica, and Bullock speaking at a press conference. Shaking hands with Mayor James. Bullock pointing out Pepper’s death site. Gordon and Jessica smiling into the camera alongside Barbara at a charity ball. The last image is a photo of Bruce Wayne. The caption states - WAYNE FUNERAL ON SUNDAY.

Outside a bus stop in Gotham. The newspaper is being read by Oswald Cobblepot, wearing a baseball hat and dark sunglasses and sitting on the bus stop bench. A plain clothes police Crown Vic pulls up. Oswald looks around warily before climbing into the back.

In the MCU Crown Vic on Gotham Street. Crispus Allen of the MCU is behind the wheel, Renee Montoya alongside. Not expecting much from this meeting.

“What a great pleasure to see you again, Mr. Allen, mizz Montoya.” Oswald says.

“Whatcha got?” Montoya asks.

“As you know, I am a close associate of Fish Mooney.” Oswald replies.

“No disrespect, aren’t you more of a dogsbody?” Montoya inquires.

“I beg to differ. Be that as it may. You may trust me when I tell you that Mario Pepper was framed by Fish Mooney and the cops.” Oswald replies.

“You got our attention.” Allen replies.

“I saw miss Mooney with Martha Wayne’s pearl necklace. She was discussing how to get it into Pepper’s home, inside a bag of drugs. This was shortly after she met with Detectives Bullock, Gordon, and Gordon from the homicide squad.” Oswald elaborates.

“She had the necklace, huh? Mooney works for Carmine Falcone. Are you saying Falcone had the Waynes killed?” Allen inquires.

“That I cannot tell. I don’t know how Mooney acquired the necklace. I am conveying only what I can vouch for honestly.” Oswald replies.

“Why snitch on your own boss?” Montoya asks.

“Public spirit, sir. That poor orphan boy pricked my conscience.” Oswald replies.

“You want Fish pushed out, huh? You think Butch Gilzean would make a better boss for you?” Allen inquires.

Oswald scowls. Allen is right. He hates it when ordinary mortals guess his intentions.

“Miss Mooney has been rude and disrespectful to me, but that is beside the point. I am doing my civic duty. Good day to you both.” Oswald replies.

Oswald gets out of the car and waddles away.

“Look just exactly like a penguin doesn’t he?” Allen asks.

“Yes he does.” Montoya replies.

“But I think he’s telling the truth.” Allen comments.

Off Oswald Cobblepot.

In the living room of Barbara’s penthouse. Barbara is lounging on the sofa, a glass of wine in one hand, and her phone in the other talking to Jessica. There is a book in her lap opened to the last few pages. The fireplace is burning a warm red-orange glow that makes it seem very pretty. 

“Yes…Of course…I will…I love you too, sweetie…Bye.” Barbara says to Jessica.

She hangs up the phone, sets it aside and grabs the book reading the last few pages. Once she finishes the book, she shuts the book putting it on the coffee table. She hears someone knocking on the door. Sighing, she gets up and sees Renee Montoya standing on the other side. Barbara’s not thrilled to see her, but puts on a decent show of pleasure. They hug.

“Renee, long time.” Barbara says.

“Yeah. How you been?” Montoya asks.

“Good, great. And you?” Barbara inquires.

“All good.” Montoya replies.

“I’m engaged and have a daughter.” Barbara says.

“I heard. James and Jessica Gordon. That’s kinda why I’m here. Can I come in?” Montoya asks.

Inside Barbara’s penthouse, Barbara and Montoya are in the living room.

“I’m working for the Major Crimes Unit now. We were set up by Mayor James to combat organized crime and corruption. We’re totally independent of the GCPD.” Montoya says.

“Where’s this going?” Barbara asks.

“Thomas and Martha Wayne were good people. They were the moral conscience of this city. And they weren’t afraid to shake things up. A lot of powerful people smile in their face but secretly hated them. Wanted them dead. So now they are dead. Things will change in this city. And not for the better.” Montoya elaborates.

“Renee, why are you telling me all this?” Barbara asks.

“We think Mario Pepper was framed for the murder. And we think the GCPD was in on it.” Montoya says.

Barbara takes a beat, trying to stay calm.

“You mean James and Jessica were in on it? My James and Jessica. Is that why you’re here?” Barbara questions.

“Yes.” Montoya replies.

“And what’s your proof?” Barbara challenges.

“I can’t tell you, but it’s the truth. James and Jessica Gordon are not good people. You deserve better.” Montoya says.

“James Gordon is the most honest man I’ve ever met. It’s one of the reasons I love him. He’s not even capable of doing that. Couldn’t lie to save his life. Jessica Gordon is the sweetest person I’ve ever met. It’s one of many reasons why I love her. She’s not even capable of that. Couldn’t hurt anyone to save her life.” Barbara replies.

“Are you sure you know what their capable of?” Montoya asks.

“Yes, I am.” Barbara replies.

“Do they know you as well?” Montoya asks.

“Yes, they do.” Barbara replies.

“Not like I do.” Montoya replies.

“Don’t go there.” Barbara warns.

“I still love you, Barbara. I can’t stand to see you get hurt.” Montoya continues.

“Don’t.” Barbara warns.

“I can’t help it. I want you back.” Montoya replies.

“It’s over, Renee. It’s over.” Barbara says.

“You left me because you wanted a normal life. And now you’re going to throw that life away on a couple crooked cops? Really?” Montoya inquires.

“They’re not crooked. And I left you because you treated me badly.” Barbara replies.

“Yes. I did and I’m ashamed and I’m sorry. I’ve changed. No pills, no drinking. I’m totally clean for eighteen months.” Montoya replies.

“That’s great. I’m happy for you. Truly. But we’re done, you and me. I’m marrying James and I’m gonna be a better mother to Jessica. And what you’re saying about them is manipulative and untrue. So I wonder how much you’ve really changed.” Barbara says.

Barbara tries to leave, but Renee holds her.

“Let me go.” Barbara says.

Renee checks herself, kisses Barbara gently and lets her go.

“I’m sorry.” Montoya replies.

Prelap: A soulful voice sings Amazing Grace.

On Barbara hurrying away.

Outside of a Gotham Cemetery, song continues over news camera footage — a vast rolling meadow of gravestones, the city skyline looming beyond. Martha and Thomas are buried together. As the coffins are lowered into their grave and a gospel singer sings…We pan across a tableau of Gotham Society seated by the graveside. Politicians, tycoons, socialites, and mafia bosses. At one end of the front row is Mayor Aubrey James. In the center is Bruce Wayne, a pale wraith with burning eyes, flanked by Alfred. At the other end sits Carmine Falcone.

“Thomas and Martha Wayne were buried today and a cross-section of Gotham society was there to pay their respects. Everyone from Mayor Aubrey James to Carmine ‘The Roman’ Falcone, reputed patriarch of the notorious Falcone Crime family.” A news anchor says.

Gordon, Barbara Kean, Jessica, Bullock, and Captain Essen are seated in the second row. Each wrapped in their own thoughts.

Outside a Gotham Cemetery. Later, after the burial. A line of people wait to give condolences to Bruce Wayne, who lights up a little when he sees Gordon approach. They shake hands. The boy has grown wise and solemn way beyond his years.

“You kept your promise. Thank you.” Bruce says.

“No thanks necessary.” Gordon replies.

“And you were right. There is some light. Not much, but enough.” Bruce says.

“I’m glad. If you ever need my help in any way, please, call on me.” Gordon replies.

“I will. Thank you.” Bruce responds.

They hug each other briefly.

Off Barbara and Jessica, watching this — Barbara’s mind in turmoil.

On the terrace of Barbara’s apartment at night. Barbara gazes out at the city, still in her funeral clothes, crying. Gordon and Jessica come out on the terrace.

“Barbara, what’s wrong? Barbara?” Gordon asks.

“Mom? Mom, what is it?” Jessica asks.

There is a long beat of silence. She looks at them imploringly.

“Did you frame Mario Pepper?” Barbara asks.

“What?! No. What?” Gordon and Jessica say simultaneously.

“I knew it. I knew you couldn’t hurt or lie to that poor boy.” Barbara says.

“Who told you Pepper was framed?” Gordon asks.

“It doesn’t matter. As long as it’s not true.” Barbara replies.

“It’s not. Mom, who told you it was?” Jessica asks.

“Just gossip in the gallery. We get a lot of street criminals.” Barbara replies.

“But that’s not where you heard it.” Jessica states.

“That’s where I heard it.” Barbara lies.

“Bee, we can tell when you’re lying.” Gordon replies.

“Stop being detectives.” Barbara replies.

“A detective is what we are. Tell us.” Gordon says.

“I ran into an old friend from City College. Renee Montoya.” Barbara replies.

In the Major Crimes Unit HQ during the day. A clean modernist office block. Montoya and Allen emerge from the MCU and head for their car. Gordon and Jessica approach angry.

“Montoya!” Gordon and Jessica call out.

“You go on. Let me handle this.” Montoya says to Allen.

He walks on. Gordon and Jessica get on Montoya.

“Why would you tell my fiancée a crock of lies? What did I do to you that you would do that?” Gordon asks.

“We’re old friends, we got to talking, and it came out. It was unprofessional and I apologize.” Montoya replies.

“Unprofessional? It’s criminal slander! There was no frame.” Jessica says.

“We have evidence that says otherwise.” Montoya replies.

“Which is what?” Gordon asks.

“I’m not giving it to you. GCPD are neck deep in this mess.” Montoya replies.

“The GCPD wasn’t involved in any frame up. I busted Pepper for christsakes. I would know, right?” Jessica says.

“Maybe you’re so young and dumb that they left you out of the loop. But I doubt it. I think you’re just a damn good liar.” Montoya replies.

Jessica’s thrown. Could she be right? Is she out of the loop?

“If you have any evidence, why don’t you press charges?” Gordon asks.

“We might.” Montoya replies.

“Why would anyone frame Pepper?” Jessica asks.

“I don’t trust you. If you’re for real, you’ll have to find out the truth for yourself.” Montoya replies.

She walks away. On Gordon and Jessica, confounded.

In the bullpen of the GCPD HQ, Gordon and Bullock have desks that face each other and Jessica has a desk that faces Captain Essen’s office. Bullock looks quizzically at Gordon and Jessica, who are nervously rolling a miniature desk football back and forth.

“Framed? How you figure that? You were there. We framed him?” Bullock inquires.

“No. But somebody could have planted the necklace on Pepper for us to find. Fish Mooney could have set the whole thing up.” Jessica says.

“Why?” Bullock inquires.

“To cover up the real killer. Mooney works fro Falcone. Maybe Falcone wanted the Waynes dead. Maybe there was a conspir—” Jessica rambles on.

“—For chrissakes, why would such a nutty idea even enter your head?” Bullock asks.

“Montoya from the MCU told me that—” Jessica begins.

“—That drunk-ass pillhead dike loonybird? Shit. Why the hell are you listening to her?” Bullock says erupting in anger.

“Of course I’m listening. Am I supposed to ignore her when she tells me the MCU has proof of a frame up? I promised Bruce Wayne that I would find the truth—” Gordon says.

“—Nevermind Bruce Wayne. What’s Montoya’s proof?” Bullock asks.

“Wouldn’t tell us. Didn’t trust us.” Jessica replies.

“Bah, they’ve got nothing. If they did, they’d use it.” Bullock replies.

“You don’t think we should take a second look? We could talk to the fence that gave Mooney the tip.”

“Supposing, just supposing Pepper was innocent. I killed him.”

“We killed him.”

“Yeah. We killed him. And we’d have to pay. We’d lose our jobs at the very least. The case is closed. Forget about it. You hear me? Forget about it.”

Off Gordon and Jessica, unhappy.

In a bedroom of Barbara’s apartment at night. Gordon and Barbara are in bed, both reading books distractedly.

“Did you and Jess speak to Renee Montoya?” Barbara asks.

“Yes, we did.” Gordon replies.

“And? How did it go?” Barbara inquires with a sidelong glance.

“She said sorry. They were mistaken. Once they looked into things.” Gordon replies.

Barbara’s relieved that Montoya apparently revealed nothing of their old love affair.  
“Oh good, that’s great, right?” Barbara replies.

“Yes.” Gordon responds.

Off Gordon, filled with guilt and confusion.

Outside the Golden Age night club during the day. Jessica enters.

In the Golden Age night club. It’s not open yet, the place is deserted. Oswald is working on account books at one of the tables.

“Oswald, right?” Jessica asks.

“How nice to see you again Detective Gordon. Can I help you?” Oswald replies.

“I need to speak with Mooney.” Jessica says.

“Regarding what shall I say?” Oswald inquires.

“Mario Pepper.” Jessica says.

“I don’t wish to be impertinent, but um…Um…May I ask why?” Oswald asks twitching.

“No.” Jessica replies.

“Yes, no. Ha ha. None of my business is it? Um…” Oswald replies.

“Go tell Miss Mooney I’m here.” Jessica says.

Oswald abruptly switches demeanor, to hissing menace.

“Get out of here you fool! Scram!” Oswald shouts.

“Whoa. Why are you so upset?” Jessica asks.

Before Oswald can reply, Mooney emerges from a back room with two henchmen. She sees the tension between Jessica and Oswald.

“Well well, Little Gordon, was it? You seem a little wired. Something wrong?” Fish asks.

“I’m not sure yet. I have some question I need to ask you.” Jessica replies.

Mooney throws a sharp glance to Oswald.

“Intriguing. I have a couple minutes. Come ask me questions.” Fish replies.

A moment later in a corner booth.

“So.” Fish says.

“What’s the name of the fence who gave you Mario Pepper?” Jessica asks.

“Why do you ask?” Fish inquires.

“I’m looking into allegations that Pepper was framed.” Jessica replies.

“Framed. Is this a gag?” Fish asks genuinely puzzled.

“No.” Jessica replies.

Mooney takes a beat. Wtf is this guy’s name?

“Who told you there was a frame?” Fish asks.

“Was there a frame?” Jessica inquires.

“Why would anyone frame Pepper?” Fish asks.

“As part of a cover up. The Waynes had a lot of power in this city. Maybe somebody had the Waynes killed so that they could take that power for themselves.” Jessica replies.

“Huh. And if they did?” Fish asks.

“I’ll follow the evidence wherever it leads.” Jessica replies.

“A regular little tornado of justice, huh? Your father doesn’t know you’re here, does he?” Fish asks.

“No. Why do you ask?” Jessica asks.

“Jessica, Jessica, you got so much going for you. You’re a sweet girl. You talk well. You look good. The daughter of a war hero for chrissakes. It’s a damn shame you’re so dumb.” Fish replies.

Mooney picks up the table lamp and smashes it over Jessica’s head, then jumps on her, taking off her shoes to use as weapons. Jessica tries to defend herself, but Mooney’s henchmen join in and she’s beaten unconscious.

In the bullpen of the GCPD HQ, Barbara appears in the doorway. She’s never been here before and looks around lost, until she finds Bullock.

“Detective Bullock.” Barbara says.

“Mizz Kean.” Bullock replies.

“I can’t get a hold of Jessica. Not since this morning. Have you heard from him?” Barbara asks.

“No. I thought she was with you.” Bullock replies.

“No. I’m worried about her.” Barbara replies.

Bullock’s now worried himself, but doesn’t want to worry her.

“Oh, wait, I remember now. She’s on a stake out. Her phone probably ran out of juice.” Bullock replies.

“Oh. Well, that’s a relief. I feel silly now for worrying. Thank you.” Barbara replies.  
“No problemo.” Bullock says.

Barbara leaves. Bullock looks deeply torn. He picks up Gordon’s desk football and squeezes it.

“You dumbass punk kid sonofabitch. You didn’t listen to me did you?” Bullock mutters.

Bullock takes a beat. He decides to do the right thing.

“Damn.” Bullock says.

He exits, hurling the football at an unsuspecting cop.

In the car trunk of a moving car. Jessica wakes in the trunk of a moving car. Her face is battered and bloody, hands tied behind her back. Jessica wiggles around until she can get the right angle and starts kicking the trunk lid as hard as she can.

Outside on the Riverside Highway. Gilzean’s car is moving fast in light traffic, Gilzean and two henchmen inside. Banging noise from the trunk can be heard. The trunk lid bursts open. Jessica pops up and throws herself out of the moving car, rolling and bouncing along the road, causing cars and trucks to brake and swerve and collide.

“Sonofabitch! Pull over.” Gilzean says.

The gangsters’ car swerves to the side of the road and stops.

Jessica scrambles to her feet and runs through the traffic. But Gilzean and his men catch up to her, beat her down and drag her back to their car, watched by astonished drivers, who gawp and take photos on the cellphones rather than intervening. Only one truck driver gets out of his cab to help, but thinks better of it when a henchmen points his gun.

“I told you to lock it, didn’t I?” Gilzean asks.

“My bad. I thought I did.” A henchman says.

They throw Jessica back in the trunk and drive on, ignoring the commotion around them.

Outside the gates of a slaughterhouse. Iron gates. An old brick building beyond. Bullock leans against his car, waiting, humming tunelessly. Nobody’s around. Gilzean’s car drives up, stops at the gate.

In the trunk of Gilzean’s car, Jessica listens intently.

“You want us to wet him down?” A henchman asks.

“No, wait. But be ready.” Gilzean replies.

The sound of the car doors opening and men getting out.

Back outside the gates of a slaughterhouse. Bullock faces Gilzean and the two henchmen.

“Hey, Butch.” Bullock says.

“Harvey. Who told you we’d be here?” Gilzean asks.

“Everybody knows this is where you take your problems. You wouldn’t have my partner in your trunk there would you?” Bullock asks.

“What if I do?” Gilzean inquires.

“Let me talk to Fish.” Bullock replies.

Gilzean considers it.

Inside the Golden Age night club. Fish Mooney is at a table, eating a sandwich and listening to a comedian audition on the little stage. Oswald is hovering nearby.

“…I’m in the park. There’s this lady with a cute dog. I ask her, does your dog bite? She says no, so I pat the dog and it bites me. I say to the lady, you said your dog doesn’t bite. She says, that’s not my dog.” The comedian says.

Mooney laughs. Her phone buzzes and she answers.

Outside the gates of a slaughterhouse, Gilzean is on a cellphone.

“Bullock met us at the plant. Wants to talk to you.” Gilzean says.

“Oh does he now? Put him on.” Fish replies. Then to Oswald she says, “Medicine.”

Oswald hurries off. Mooney gestures to the comedian. “One minute, kid. You’re doing good.” She says.

At the gates, Gilzean hands the phone to Bullock.

“Fish?” Bullock asks.

“Speaking.” Mooney replies.

“Ah don’t be like that. You got to let my girl go. I swear she won’t be anymore trouble. I will vouch for her one hundred and ten percent. How long have we been friends?” Bullock says.

“For a long time until today. I did a big favor for you and now it’s gonna blow up in my face on account of your stupidity. That’s not okay sugar. Why the hell you got a partner that doesn’t know what time it is?” Mooney replies.

“Lookit, the kid is not your problem here. She was hipped to the frame by Major Crimes. They’ll be coming after you.” Bullock replies.

Oswald comes back with a leather handbag. Mooney snatches it from him and rummages inside — It’s a loose grab bag of pharmaceuticals. Oswald hurries to fetch a glass of water.

“How did they get onto me?” Mooney asks.

“The usual way I guess. Somebody talked.” Bullock replies.

“Not one of my people.” Mooney replies.

“Everybody says that.” Bullock responds.

Mooney is looking right at Oswald, who is looking back at her with a glass of water and a look of humble unction that now looks very suspicious to Mooney.

“True. True.” Mooney replies.

“So, Fish, let Jessica go, huh? I kinda got to like the kid. And she’s my partner for chrissakes. You kill her, I got to come after you.” Bullock replies.

“Is that right?” Mooney inquires.

“How’m I going to look, you kill my partner and I don’t make a move?” Bullock asks.

There is a long beat of silence between the two.

“That’s true. You got to promise me, you’ll keep her under control.” Mooney says.

“As I live and breathe.” Bullock replies.

“Okay then. Put Butch on.” Mooney says.

Bullock hands the phone to Gilzean.

“Yeah, boss.” Gilzean says.

“That sonofabitch just threatened me. Put him in wit his partner.” Mooney says.

“Willdo, boss.” Gilzean replies.

Gilzean puts away his phone and makes a subtle gesture to on the henchmen.

“I’m glad we could work this ou—” Bullock says but is cut off.

The henchman hits Bullock over the head with the butt of his gun and Bullock falls.

Back inside the Golden Age night club. Mooney smiles wanly at Oswald as he hands her a water glass.

“Bless your heart.” Mooney says.

She gulps down a handful of pills and feels better.

“Be a treasure and rub my neck.” Mooney orders.

“Of course, boss.” Oswald replies.

Mooney waves at the comedian.

“Give me a moment, kid. I haven’t forgotten you. I like you. You’re funny.” Mooney says.

Oswald rubs her neck and she groans in relief.

“Ah that’s good. Right there.” Mooney says. After a beat she casually says, “Let me ask you a question. What d’you think’s gonna happen now that the Waynes are dead?”

‘Well, I don’t know.” Oswald replies.

“Ah you’re being modest. You’re a smart guy. You know with the Waynes gone, this city is up for grabs. Falcone can’t live forever. I play my cards right I can run this town.” Mooney says.

“Yes yes, I see.” Oswald replies.

“‘Course you do. You’re smart.” Mooney says. After a beat she says, “You’re like a son to me, you know that Oswald?”

“You’ve been like a mother to me.” Oswald responds.

“I have. I have been like a mother to you. Which is what I don’t understand. After all I’ve done for you, and just when I’m on the verge of great things, you betray me? What kind of low-life scum betrays their own mother?” Mooney asks.

Oswald stops rubbing her neck.

“I-I-I don’t know what you mean.” Oswald replies.

“You snitched to the MCU. It was you. You saw me with the pearls. Nobody else did.” Mooney says.

He backs up. She stalks him across the room.

“Gilzean saw you too! It was Gilzean! He’s the snitch.” Oswald replies.

“No. Gilzean is loyal.” Mooney responds.

“So am I. I would die for you, I swear. I’d open a vein right here and now if you asked me to.” Oswald says.

Mooney has backed Oswald into a corner off the room. She picks up a steak knife from a dining table, offers it to Oswald.

“Go on then. Open one.” Mooney says.

“I, I was speaking poetically.” Oswald replies.

“Prove it for me penguin. Prove your loyalty.” Mooney says tauntingly.

Piqued by the hated name, Oswald pretends to cringe, and takes the knife reluctantly.

“Please Miss Mooney, please don’t—” Oswald says.

And he lunges at Mooney with the knife. But Mooney’s waiting for him. She avoids the lunge, picks up a chair and batters Oswald to the floor.

“Please don’t call me that…” Oswald finishes semi-conscious.

Mooney smiles at the comedian, frozen in terror onstage.

“So sorry. Go on.” Mooney says to him. After a beat she shouts, “Go on!”

“Um…You’re a wonderful audience. Not like last night. My God, the abuse, it was terrible. I’m like Mom, Dad, please. Gimme a break, I’m working here.” The comedian says.

Mooney laughs.

Inside the slaughterhouse at night. A big dank barn, lined on one side with livestock pens. On the other side, big rolling motorized doors.

In one pen, there are several angry half starved pigs. In the next pen, separated by a double bolted gate, Jessica and Bullock are hanging upside down from chains attached to a winch. Bullock is coming round as we going them. He focuses blearily on Jessica. Both of them are revolving slowly.

“How you doing?” Bullock asks.

“Been better.” Jessica replies.

Bullock sees the pigs. “Oh Jesus Christ.” He says.

“Yeah. I’m going to try and swing over to you. Maybe I can untie you.” Jessica replies.

“You do that. Jesus Christ.” Bullock replies.

Jessica starts trying to swing over to Bullock. “Thanks for trying to help.” She says.

“Wish I hadn’t now.” Bullock replies.

“Don’t blame you. I wish you’d told me the truth.” Jessica says.

“Shut up and swing would please.” Bullock replies.

Jessica is swinging well now, closer and closer to Bullock. She reaches out and manages to grab Bullock’s arms and then tries to haul herself up to Bullock’s roped ankles.

Clang. A bank of overhead lights come on. Gilzean and two henchmen enter. One of them — Sergio — is carrying a camera on a tripod, which he sets up by the pen.

“Butch, listen to me—”

“—Yeah, sorry, no. If it was up to me, you’d get a bullet in the head, and a decent funeral. But Fish has her ways.” Gilzean replies.

Gilzean starts unbolting the gate that separates the pigs from Jessica and Bullock. The animals squeal and snort in anticipation.

“You ready?” Gilzean asks.

“One sec.” Sergio responds.

“Chrissake.” Gilzean replies.

“It’s a new camera. Okay. Ready.” Sergio comments.

Jessica keeps methodically trying to get free, although she knows it’s useless. Bullock squirms in helpless anger.

“I hope you die of cancer you miserable piece of crap!” Bullock says.

Gilzean tries to open the last bolt on the gate. But it’s rusty and stiff. Right then, the large rolling doors of the slaughterhouse start sliding open; revealing a gleaming black limo, lights blazing, motor running. The limo doors open. Three mafia hard men and Carmine Falcone get our and enter the slaughterhouse.

Gilzean is shocked and a little scared.

“Don Falcone. I’m honored to uh…” Gilzean says. He falls silent as Falcone looks him over mildly.

“Forgive me young man, I forget what your name is. Or perhaps I never knew it. Please release this man and this lady and give them water.” Falcone says.

Outside on the loading dock of the slaughterhouse at night. The dock overlooks the city. Falcone walks with Jessica, who is confused by this abrupt change in fortune and this notorious villain’s friendly manner.

“You have good blood Jessica. And I don’t spill good blood. That’s why I’m giving you another chance. One day, you could be a great woman in this city alongside your father. His father died when James was what, nine, and you never knew him?” Falcone says.

“Yes.” Jessica replies.

“It’s a shame you didn’t get the chance to know him and your father didn’t get the chance to know him better. He was a great man. The best DA this city ever had. And a good friend.” Falcone replies.

“A friend of yours?” Jessica asks sounding dubious.

Falcone bristles at the implicit disrespect.

“A good friend. That’s the only reason you’re alive right now. You grandfather and I understood each other. There was respect. And he loved this city like I love this city.” Falcone says. The after a beat he continues, “It’s going to hell. We got gangs, crazy people, drug dealers, rapists and robbers running the streets. It’s getting worse and worse. I don’t know why. Sometimes I think this place is cursed. But I won’t let it fall apart without a fight.”

“I don’t understand. Didn’t you have the Waynes killed? How does that help Gotham?” Jessica asks.

Falcone laughs. “What an idea. I didn’t kill the Waynes. I loved the Waynes.” He replies.

“Who killed them then? It wasn’t Pepper, was it?” Jessica inquires.

“I have no idea who killed them. It was a mugging. Random fate. You, James, and Bullock might have found the culprit eventually, but probably not. Pepper was sacrificed so that the people of Gotham would see swift justice done. So they can feel safe. So they can sleep better at night.” Falcone replies.

“And that matters to you?” Jessica asks.

“Of course. I’m a businessman, not an anarchist. I love law and order just like you do. You can’t have organized crime without law and order. There’d be chaos. When things like the Wayne murders happen, it feels like nobody is safe. People get scared. That’s the last thing anybody wants. Not me, not the Mayor, not the chief of police. Nobody.” Falcone replies.

“You’re seriously telling me they all were in on framing Pepper, they’re all corrupt.” Jessica says.

“They’re all realistic and cooperative. That’s how the city works. We cooperate. You think Bullock is some kind of renegade? He was following orders. It was agreed that someone needed to be caught before the funeral.” Falcone replies.

“But then how did Mooney come to have Martha Wayne’s necklace?” Jessica inquires.

“A replica of course.” Falcone says.

“No, it was the real thing. Lab said so. Real south sea pearls and old gold. A hundred thousand dollars worth.” Jessica replies.

“Of course it was the real thing. And it cost more like twice that.” Falcone replies.

“Why should I believe you?” Jessica asks.

“You have a hard head. I spared your life. Why lie to you?” Falcone answers.

“Thank you for deciding not to kill me Mr. Falcone. Are we done? Can I go now?” Jessica says stiffly.

Falcone smiles ruefully at the young woman’s stubborn courage.

“I haven’t decided anything yet. I’m giving you a chance to do the right thing. Don’t be self-righteous. Don’t be arrogant. Listen to advice.” Falcone says.

“You want me to keep quiet about all of this.” Jessica replies.

“Now that the Waynes are gone, Gotham is on a knife edge. What do you suppose bringing down city hall and the police force will do? Make things better? Really?” Falcone questions.

“I will have told the truth.” Jessica replies.

“Your grandfather was a very wise man. He gave me some good advice one time. I was angry over some disrespect that had been shown me. Carmine my friend he said, in that calm voice he had, this city is worth more than your personal respect.” Falcone replies.

Falcone pats Jessica’s cheeks.

“In bocca al lupo.” Falcone says to her, wishing her good luck.

“Grazie ea Dio piacendo. Ci vediamo in giro per Don Falcone.” Jessica replies to Falcone.

As Falcone walks away, he stops momentarily and smiles to himself upon hearing Jessica’s comment.  
Outside the gates of the slaughterhouse during the day. At dawn, the sun is a sliver on the horizon. Jessica limps out of the plant. Bullock is leaning against his car.

Inside the moving car at the Gotham waterfront. Bullock at the wheel, Jessica alongside him. Both are a little stunned.

“Lookit, Jess…” Jessica says. She continues, “I’m listening.

“Okay. I wasn’t honest with you. But you weren’t ready for the truth.” Bullock replies.

“I think you didn’t tell me or my dad because you were ashamed.” Jessica replies.

It’s true, but Bullock would never admit that.

“I’m not ashamed of anything. This is how the world works.” Bullock responds.

Bullock steers the car onto the Riverfront Pier. It’s deserted, sheltered from the road. Bullock stops the car and jumps out, angry. Jessica follows.

“Why are we stopping here?” Jessica asks.

Bullock opens the trunk of the car to reveal Oswald Cobblepot, gagged, in his shirt and underpants, hands tied behind his back, wide-eyed and making desperate noises. Jessica is shocked to say the least.

“This is the fool that snitched to Montoya and Allen. Falcone wants you to kill him.” Bullock replies.

“You’re kidding me.” Jessica replies.

“Take him to the end of the pier and shoot him in the head. Then everybody knows you’re with the program.” Bullock states.

“And if I don’t?” Jessica inquires.

“Then I’m supposed to take out him and you both. Here’s the thing Jessy, you’re an okay kid. I might not have the stomach to do that. But I will try, because if I don’t, someone else’ll get to you quick enough. Someone’ll get to both of us. Probably Jim and Barbara as well. Who knows what you and Jim told her.” Bullock replies.

“We told her nothing.” Jessica replies.

“You think Falcone will be cool with that?” Bullock asks. After a beat he says, “Come on, you killed people before.”

“That was war. I was protecting people.”

“So is this. We’re at war with low life dirtbags like this guy. In a war, you have to do bad things to do good. Do you want to do this bad thing or do you want to die and maybe your parents die as well. To me, that’s not a tough call.” Bullock replies.

Jessica takes a long beat, nods, and gestures to Oswald.

“Out.” Jessica orders.  
“Attagirl.” Bullock says.

Oswald cowers and doesn’t move. Jessica and Bullock manhandle him out of the trunk and onto his feet.

“Walk.” Jessica orders.

Jessica shoves Oswald into motion. The two of them walk to the end of the pier. Jessica has to drag Oswald along by his collar. Bullock watches from a distance.

Jessica and Oswald get to the pier’s edge. Black water chunked with ice speeds past twenty feet below.

Jessica unties the cord around Oswald’s wrists.

“Turn around.” Jessica orders.

Oswald turns to face her, mewling and pleading through the gag. Jessica points the gun at his head.

“Don’t ever come back to Gotham.” Jessica orders once more.

Blam! Jessica fires the gun inches from Oswald’s head, lightly grazing his ear, at the same time shoving him hard in the chest. Oswald falls twenty feet into the freezing black water of the Gotham river.

From Bullock’s POV, the killing looks legit.

Meanwhile, underwater. Oswald sinks to the bottom flailing, but then finds his bearings, pulls the gag off, and swims away with good technique.

Back at the Riverfront pier, Jessica and Bullock get into the car. A moment of heavy silence. Bullock pats Jessica on the knee, the starts the car and drives away.

In Barbara Kean’s apartment. Barbara opens the door to her apartment and finds Jessica there, swaying on her feet, looking like bloody hell.

“Oh my God.” Barbara says and embraces her. “I’ve been so worried. What happened to you?” She asks but gets no reply. “Jessica?”

She holds her tighter. Tears welling in her eyes. She asks no more and just holds her, stroking her hair.

Outside Wayne Manor establishing. It’s a sunny day. The Gothic spires of the Victorian mansion look almost cheerful. We move closer and find young Bruce Wayne on the roof, standing a foot away from the edge of a parapet, over a dizzying drop. He’s very scared, but he takes a deep breath and steps right to the very edge of the parapet, deliberately trying to conquer his fear.

“One hundred, ninety nine, ninety eight, ninety seven…” Bruce says.

Walking up the driveway of the manor to the front door, Gordon sees Bruce up on the parapet. He doesn’t want to shout for fear of startling the boy. He runs to the front door, rings the bell urgently. After an agonizing wait, the door opens and Alfred is there.

“He’s on the roof. Bruce is up on the roof.” Gordon says.

“Ah bollocks. Not again.” Alfred says just irritated.

He stalks out onto the forecourt until he can see Bruce.

“Oi! Master Bruce! Stop playing silly buggers! Get your bloody are down off there!” Alfred shouts.

The boy sees Gordon and smiles, raises a hand in greeting. He steps back from the edge and disappears from view below.

In the living room of Wayne Manor, Gordon sits opposite Bruce. Alfred sits a few feet behind his young master. Gordon is taken aback by the dark fire in the boy’s eyes.

“It’s good to see you.” Gordon says.

“And you.” Bruce replies.

“Why were you up on the roof?” Gordon asks.

“He wants me in the loony bin, that’s why.” Alfred replies.

Bruce gives Alfred a look that says ‘remember who’s boss here.’

“I’m learning to conquer fear.” Bruce says.

“I understand. But fear tells you where the edge is. Fear is a good thing. It doesn’t need conquering.” Gordon replies.

“Think I haven’t told him that?” Alfred asks.

“I disagree. You came here for a reason, I imagine.” Bruce says.

“Yes. I did. I uh…I’ve discovered some things that I need to tell you. Mario Pepper didn’t kill your parents. He was framed. By the police department and the mob. Working together.” Gordon replies.

Bruce Wayne nods calmly and glances at Alfred, like that’s a possibility they discussed.

“Carmine Falcone told me Pepper was framed only so that the public would feel safe. He said there was no conspiracy to kill your parents. But I’m not sure if I believe him.” Gordon continues.

“Why not?” Bruce asks.

“I’m not sure of anything anymore, except that Gotham is headed for hard times and I want to help. So I’m going to leave my next step up to you.” Gordon says.

Gordon takes out his Detective’s badge and hands it to Bruce.

“I can resign from the police force today and go in public with the whole story. Or I can stay on the force and fight for change from the inside. I don’t know which path is best. So I’ll let you decide. Either way, I’ll do my best to find out who really killer your parents. Like I promised.” Gordon explains.

There is a long beat of silence as Bruce considers.

“Thanks for being honest with me. Gotham need honest men. I think you should stay on the force and fight.” Bruce says.

He hands the badge back to Gordon.

Outside Wayne Manor. Gordon exits and takes a deep breath of fresh air.

We pull back and back until we find Selina Kyle, perched high in a tree beyond the manor walls, with a clear view of the house. Inscrutable as ever, she watches Gordon walk away with a determined stride — a man on a mission. The Gotham skyline looms above them both, gleaming darkly.


End file.
